In Time
by ScruffyLovin
Summary: A series of mostly unrelated short stories, ficlets, and drabbles focusing on Jack and Sam and their relationships as friends or lovers. Various ratings and genres for each installment.
1. Whistling

**Disclaimer: **Nothing SG-1 related belongs to me.

**Summary: **He's whistling the tune to something she can't quite pick up, and it's irritating the hell out of her.

**Characters/Pairings: **Sam/Jack

**Rating: **G

**Whistling**

He's whistling the tune to something she can't quite pick up, and it's irritating the hell out of her. Not because he's whistling, but because she can't figure out _what _he's whistling.

Then something else registers in Sam's mind.

He's whistling. Therefore, he's awake.

Jack's awake!

Eyes snapping open, she lifts her head from her arms where she's been leaning on his bed. She smiles as his dark eyes drift toward her, gleaming with - happiness? - as he grins back at her.

She sits up, scoots her chair impossibly closer. Her hand brushes the short hairs at his forehead. "Hey," it's all she can say at the moment, too choked up with relief for words.

"Hey," he croaks back at her.

Watching confusion pass over his features as he blinks, eyes traveling down his body from his reclining position on the bed, Sam takes his hand in hers and squeezes gently. He's noticed the brace on his right leg. "It's broken," she confirms his thoughts, unsure if he can even feel it with all the pain medication he was on.

He sighs, groans, and carefully tosses his head back against the pillows. His head feels like someone took a jackhammer to it, but the ache in his leg is mostly a dull throb.

"How long?"

She doesn't need more than that. She knows what he means. Without glancing at the clock she calmly tells him, "About twelve hours,"

Jack blinks, nods slowly. His eyes scan over her studiously. The furrow between his brows deepens. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," Sam nods, smiles tightly, squeezes his hand again. She hasn't let go. "_Now_ I'm okay,"

He smiles back at her, the brightness reaching his eyes. Jack's thumb begins to rub a slow circle against her hand. "Me too,"

It's quiet for a long while. They stay there, hand in hand, grateful of each other's company.

She suddenly tilts her head, raises an eyebrow and questions, "What were you whistling?"

It takes a moment for him to recall, his thoughts shifting backwards realize what she was talking about. Then he grins lopsidedly and says, "The Simpson's theme,"

Sam ducks her head, laughs softly, then looks back into his deep brown eyes. "Figures."


	2. Family

**Summary: **SG-1 is having a party at Sam's house.

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack, Team

**Genre: **General

**Rating: **G

**Family**

He's finding it's getting harder to breathe when she looks at him like that. Her bright blue eyes are wide as saucers, glimmering directly at him. He's unable to form coherent thought or speech at the moment, so he just stands there dumbly and stares back at her, open-mouthed.

"Sir," Her smile deepens. "I'm glad you could make it,"

Finding it in himself to nod, Jack steps inside as she moves aside and waves him in. He can't help but look her up and down when her back is turned and he's closed the door behind him.

She's beautiful. Dressed in a strapless, light blue and yellow sun dress that accents her golden hair and those gorgeous blue eyes, Jack finds it difficult to shift his gaze. The gentle sway of her hips as she moves in front of him has got the poor man absolutely mesmerized.

He follows her through the house and to her backyard, holding a precious little package in his closed right fist.

The rest of the team is waiting out back, sitting casually and amiably chatting around a picnic table. Jack raises a hand to wave as Daniel and Teal'c lift their heads and glance over at him.

"Hey kids," he greets enthusiastically with a genuine smile, taking a seat at the wooden table and not even realizing he's sat next to Sam until a second later. The small package in his hand is carefully tucked away in the pocket of his jeans.

They all lose themselves in the easy, friendly chatter that has made their team of misfits a family over the past few years, and enjoy a feast of barbecued chicken, potato salad, and corn on the cob.

Afterwards, Jack sips at his beer and steps into the house, going to the kitchen where Sam is putting things away. Teal'c and Daniel are outside, setting more paper plates and napkins for dessert.

He purposefully strides toward her by the sink, slipping a hand into his right pocket and extracting the small package. Jack coughs to gain her attention.

She turns at the noise, her eyes widening as the familiar brilliant smile graces her lips. "Colonel," Her gaze is suddenly fixed on the package in his hand, brows furrowing in silent curiosity.

He holds it out to her, not saying a word.

Sam tentatively takes it from his hand, gently unwraps the yellow tissue paper and opens a small white box. Her eyes light up even more, this time in complete awe.

Carefully fingering the tiny object within the box, she takes it out with the greatest of care, examining the finely crafted metal and stones with intense fascination. It's a miniature stargate, no bigger than a half dollar. On the tiny, carved stone steps, she notices that there is an engraving.

_SG-1; Team and Family Forever_

Her smile is priceless, and Jack can't help but grin with pride, leaning back on his heels.

"Thank you, sir," Sam moves closer, still holding the miniature gate in her palm. She leans forward and hugs him tightly, savoring the feel of his arms around her when he gets over his momentary shock.

His head leans down into the crook of her shoulder. She loves the way he hugs.

Jack's breath is soft against her neck as he murmurs, "Happy Birthday, Sam,"

She gives him one more squeeze and pulls away slowly, not at all awkwardly. She can't stop smiling as their eyes are locked.

Yes, it's a very happy birthday indeed.

**-**

**Note: **I'm open to consider any prompts you guys can come up with for future installments, so if you've got any ideas, let me know!


	3. Screw the Regs

**Summary: **Jack is tired of hiding what they have.

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **General, Romance, Angst

**Rating: **G

**Screw the Regs**

Jack wraps his arms around her from behind and nuzzles her neck affectionately.

She smiles, savoring the feel of his warm embrace. But there's something bothering him, she knows, and he's still avoiding her question. "Jack,"

"Hm?" Reluctantly he draws back, and Sam turns slowly in his arms.

"You didn't answer me," she points out in a serious tone, locking him in place with her blue-eyed stare.

Sighing, he backs away from the kitchen counter and sinks into the nearest chair. A hand scrubs roughly over his face before going to massage the back of his neck. "I'm just tired of hiding us, our relationship,"

Sam frowns in sympathy and understanding, taking two long strides over to him. It's been a trying few months for the both of them.

"I know," she sighs softly in agreement. "But we've got to for now, until we can figure out what to do. The regs can stand in our way when it comes to us publicly and officially being in a relationship, but it won't change what we have."

Lifting his head, Jack slowly smiles. He pulls her onto his lap and holds her tight.

"Besides," Sam smiles at him and leans her head on his shoulder. "No matter what the regs say, I'll always be yours to hold."

He grins and kisses her deeply, knowing that other than that, nothing else really matters.

-

**Note: **Used the prompt_'Yours to hold' _thanks to xfirefly9x. :)


	4. Burdened

**Summary: **It's the hardest decision he'll ever make.

**Character/Pairing: **SamJack

**Genre: **Angst, Drama, Romance

**Rating: **G.

**Word Count: **100

**Burdened**

The hiss and click of the ventilator is a sound he won't soon forget.

She's laying there, all tubes and wires. Lifeless. Never to open her eyes again. Brain dead they tell him.

He needs to make a decision.

There's nothing left. She's already gone.

It hurts to believe that.

They're sorry. And he's heartbroken and empty.

The child she saved lives, but she won't.

He's burdened with the decision that has to be made, and he hates that.

He doesn't want to live without her.

Sucking in a shaky breath, he breathes out, glances at the doctor and nods.


	5. The Fishing Log

**Summary: **Sam starts a journal while SG-1 spends downtime at Jack's cabin.

**Character/Pairing: **SamJack, Team

**Genre: **General, Humor, Established SJ

**Rating: **G.

**The Fishing Log**

I'm not exactly sure why I started this journal. Oh wait, yeah I do. It's because Jack hid my laptop!

We've all had a pretty rough time on our last mission; Daniel, the Colonel, and I. Teal'c came away relatively unharmed, thanks to his symbiote, but the rest of us got worked over pretty good after a fierce battle with some loose rocks and a steep hill.

Daniel broke his ankle, Jack got himself a concussion and some busted ribs, and I managed to sprain my shoulder. Besides all that, we've all got a nice collection of scratches and bruises.

General Hammond insisted we all take a week off before we're allowed back on light duties, and the Colonel was adamant that a team vacation in Minnesota was exactly what we all needed.

It's our second day here now, and I've been sitting under the shade of a tree, watching Daniel and Jack fish out on the dock for the past hour. Daniel's got his fishing pole in one hand, and a book in his lap. Jack's been trying to snatch it away from him for the last ten minutes, but Daniel won't give it up.

Teal'c's on the back deck of the cabin starting up the grill. He looks pretty funny wearing Jack's apron with 'Kiss the Cook' across the front. If Jack was wearing it right now, I would be sorely tempted to kiss him.

That reminds me. We have a bet going. If Jack actually manages to catch a fish (though he's told me once before there aren't actually any fish in that pond) then I have to give him a big kiss in front of Daniel and Teal'c.

This is one bet I really hope to lose.

So, until the next entry, I'll just keep my fingers crossed.

-


	6. Sweet Defeat

**Summary: **A continuation of 'The Fishing Log'. Sam's got more to write about during the team's downtime.

**Character/Pairing: **SamJack, Team

**Genre:** Humor, General, Established SJ

**Rating: **G.

**Sweet Defeat**

It finally happened, and I must admit that I've never been happier to lose a bet. This afternoon, Jack caught a fish. I couldn't believe it, and apparently, neither could he.

Before deciding to claim his winnings - the promised kiss in front of Daniel and Teal'c - Jack took me aside and admitted that he had a market-bought fish in the cooler out on the dock, and had been planning to doctor it up and hook it on his line.

I would've still been suspicious if I hadn't seen him reel the live, flopping trout in himself. Besides, I peeked in the cooler after he confessed and found the store-bought fish was still in there, packed in ice and definitely not moving.

Jack had smiled devilishly and quietly asked when I planned on planting one on him, but I just grinned back teasingly and told him that I'd surprise him.

And surprise him I did.

While we all sat around the back deck that night, chatting and drinking after enjoying the smoked fish Jack had caught, I got up from my deck chair and strode over to Jack purposefully.

He'd been looking to his left at Teal'c, talking about hockey or something.

I reached out with my good arm and leaned over his chair, grasping his chin and turning him to face me before I planted a long, passionate kiss smack dab on his lips.

Jack's eyes were wide in brief surprise as I pulled away and stood up straight afterwards. Then he grinned and leaned back in the chair with satisfaction.

Daniel's mouth was still gaping open in shock. His beer bottle thudded to the deck near his plaster-encased left foot and spilled across the wood.

Teal'c just cocked his head a little to one side and raised a singular eyebrow.

And I just strolled back to my chair and took a seat.

Most definitely the best bet I'd ever lost.

-


	7. Worth Living For

**Summary: **Post 'Tin Man'. Synthetic Jack is having issues dealing with being a copy. Sam's duplicate must convince him that they've still got a life to live.

**Character/Pairing: **SamJack

**Genre: **Episode Tag, Drama, Angst

**Rating: **PG.

**Worth Living For**

They'd been living new lives for nearly a week now, since the original SG-1 had gone home. A home they could never return to. One which was never really theirs to begin with.

Sam knew that Jack - as he insisted he be called, since he wasn't _really _a Colonel - was having the hardest time dealing with all this, and that he needed space. She gave him his space for a few days, but then she had begun to worry.

He was avoiding everyone, and they were the only family he had. The new synthetic of Teal'c had been finished, and their family had been whole again. But for Jack, that wasn't enough. He stopped talking. He stopped helping with the repairs.

Then, one day, he was gone.

Just… Gone.

Harlan had told her that the gate had been activated. He was frantic, telling her that if that was where O'Neill had gone, he wouldn't last long, as they were all aware.

The coordinates used had been logged into the system. He hadn't gone to Earth. The coordinates didn't look familiar to her. It was like he just tried an address at random and left.

Was he that desperate to leave?

Did he not care what happened to him anymore?

With her natural intelligence increased, Sam was able to come up with an emergency battery pack in six hours. It wouldn't last too long, but if she found Jack and his energy had been spent, it should be able to get him back. Assuming he was still in the same place he gated to, and didn't somehow wind up in enemy hands or get severely damaged.

How could he do something so foolish? She thought angrily. There was no telling what type of atmosphere was on the planet he'd gated to. If he'd even gated to a planet at all. It could have been a moon for cryin' out loud!

-

It was time for her to go find Jack. Harlan was anxious as ever, not wanting to lose her as well. He was so like an overbearing father, that she had to smile a little at him and give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"We'll both be back," she told him quietly, glancing to Daniel and Teal'c who stood at the bottom of the steps to the gate, waiting to see her off.

They'd wanted to go with her. They were worried too. But she had to go alone.

-

She prepared herself as well as she could for this mission. The real SG-1 had taken their MP5's back, but they'd been kind enough to leave them with zats, since Harlan didn't have any weapons. Sam was confident she'd be able to produce more zats anyways. She wasn't worried.

Emerging from the gate on the other side, Sam was greeted by a rush of stifling, hot air. Her eyes immediately felt dry and she had to squint to take in the terrain ahead of her. It wasn't a desert, as she'd suspected before being able to see properly.

There was a long, winding dirt path ahead of her, surrounded by fields of tall, golden grass that was so dry it looked as though a simple spark would set the whole planet ablaze.

Raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, Sam peered as far as she could down the path and could just make out the shape of some kind of building structures far in the distance.

Weapon half-raised tentatively, Sam swept the immediate area carefully and then began to track down the dry dirt path, hoping to find her wayward Colonel. She tested her internal radio, but all she received was static. Sam was just going to have to do this the old fashion way.

-

Half way to the buildings, movement in the dry grass up ahead caught her attention. She tensed, raised her weapon and prepared to fire, carefully stepping closer. She wanted it to be him.

Closing in, further movement had her jumping backwards the same time a large, bird-like creature flew out of the tall grass, startling her. Sam gasped and put a hand to her chest, shaking her head.

She turned to get back on the path when there was a rustling deeper into the grass. Turning, with furrowed brows, she trudged further into the growth when she noticed something. It was a boot. Air Force issue.

"Colonel!" she gasped, pushing the tall grass out of the way as she knelt down beside him.

There was a gaping hole in his lower left side, oozing the thick, grayish android life-blood. Sam winced and gently touched the side of his dirt-covered face. They may have been robots, but Harlan had made them so life-like that wounds such as this did indeed hurt. It may not have been as debilitating to them as it would be to their fleshy counterparts, but coupled with a low battery, it really took its toll.

She could see that his energy levels were extremely low. He'd been away from the planet far too long. She only hoped she could get him back in time for Harlan to repair the damage.

"Jack?"

His eyes dragged open slowly and he blinked with confusion, jaw working up and down a few times as he pulled at the last of his energy reserves to speak. "Sam? Iss'at you?" he managed weakly.

"Yeah, it's me," she sent him a wan smile and slowly lifted his t-shirt, then took off the pack she wore. "I brought along an emergency battery. If I don't hook you up you're going to shut down,"

Jack swallowed slowly and blinked a few times. "Why did…you come.. for me?"

Sam gently ran her hand through his gritty hair. He must have been lying there for quite awhile. "Why did you leave?" she countered softly with a tight smile.

His eyes closed again. He didn't have the energy to speak anymore.

She gazed down, worried, and pressed at the center of his chest, the power core inside him rising. Taking out the palm-sized emergency battery in her hand, she slid it in place within the main power core, then pushed it back down into his chest.

Frowning as she stared down at the hole in his side, Sam took the thick bandages from her pack and wrapped the wound tightly. He was losing too much fluid that was necessary for the mechanics within him to work properly. Even with the emergency battery, if she didn't return him to Harlan soon for repairs, he would shut down anyway, possibly forever.

She couldn't take the chance. Losing him was not an option.

The battery she'd used immediately restored a small amount of his energy, and he sat up slowly.

"Why?" she asked again, softly, staring intently into his dark eyes. The rest of the question wasn't needed. He knew what she meant.

He pressed a hand to his bandaged side, momentarily lowering his eyes. "I was...angry," he whispered lowly.

Sam shook her head vigorously. She touched his knee. "There's more to it than that,"

Swallowing, he raised his eyes to hers, their expressions sharing more than words ever could. He nodded, took a slow, deep breath. "I... I wasn't sure if I wanted to live like this..." he gestured toward himself. "Always knowing I'm a copy, that I can never go home. That the home and memories aren't really mine to begin with,"

Nodding in understanding, Sam gently squeezed his knee and got up. She looked at where he'd been lying in the grass, then turned toward the gate a mile or so behind them. Realization dawned. "You were trying to get back to the gate,"

He smiled crookedly, not yet trying to get to his feet. "Yeah. After a friendly little spat with this planet's wildlife," he lightly patted his damaged side, "I had some time to think things through,"

"And?" she tilted her head, hands on her hips. Her eyes were soft and searching. "What made you change your mind, decide that maybe this kind of life would be worth living after all?"

Jack reached out his arm for her to help him up. When they stood nose to nose, he reached out and gently cradled the side of her face, smiling tenderly. "You,"

Sam smiled, her bright eyes glistening. She reached a hand behind his head and pulled him into a kiss. He responded in kind after a seconds hesitation, but Sam reluctantly pulled away when he wavered on his feet a moment later. She drew one of Jack's arms across her shoulders, then held onto his waist to support him. "I really need to get you back to Harlan," she said softly, bending down to retrieve his fallen weapon, then standing back up quickly so he didn't fall over.

"Kay," was Jack's breathless response as he grinned lazily, trying not to drag his feet as they stepped from the tall grass and onto the dirt path. He couldn't help but feel grateful and loved, seeing that Sam had risked her own life, existence, to go through the gate and find him. Their insides may not have been real, but what they felt for each other definitely was.

And that was surely worth living for.

-


	8. The Upside of Sunburns

**Summary: **Jack gets a bad sunburn off-world and Sam takes care of him.

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **General, Drama

**Rating: **G.

**Note: **I know I haven't taken the time to reply to anyone specifically, but I just want to thank you all for your reviews. I really appreciate your feedback! (Still excepting prompts for future installments by the way, if anyone would like to offer up some ideas!) Thanks again:)

**The Upside of Sunburns**

Ducking beneath the flap of the tent and letting herself in, Sam took a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She shuffled toward the figure laying on the ground at the back of the tent, hunched over because the roof of the tent was too short to allow her to stand.

"Colonel?" she called tentatively into the darkness, carrying a large bowl of water over to him, a few folded cloths slung over her left arm. Kneeling down, she set the bowl aside and gazed at his prone form studiously.

"Mrph," came the muffled groan. He was flat on his stomach, shirtless, his face buried in arms folded in front of him.

Sam grimaced, knowing that he was in pain and would most likely be irritable with the next question she posed. "How are you feeling, sir?"

He lifted his head slightly, peering at her with narrowed eyes. "Burnt," he nearly growled, "How do ya _think_ I'm feeling, Major?"

She couldn't help smiling gently, despite his gruff tone. Jack's silver hair was adorably fluffed and poking out in all directions. "Daniel and I warned you about wearing sunscreen sir," Sam said plainly in an 'I-told-you-so' manner. "The MALP showed us that this planet is much closer to it's two suns this time of year and-"

"Ack!" He abruptly cut her off, dropping his head back down onto folded arms. "I don't wanna hear it Carter," he muttered in a muffled, defeated tone. "I got what I deserved, okay?"

"Yes sir," Sam said quietly, not about to argue with him, however much she disagreed. In her opinion, he really didn't deserve to be this badly sun burnt, and she knew he must have been feeling a good amount of hurt.

Jack inwardly cursed himself, wishing that he'd left his shirt on, despite the heat, when one of the native men had taken him to the fishing hole. He'd been so amazed at the size and quantity of the fish they'd been catching, it never registered that he was slowly being baked by the planet's two suns.

"I brought some stuff for your back sir," Sam set down the dry cloths by the water bowl and pulled a circular container of ointment from her BDU pants' pocket.

Languidly turning his head in her direction, Jack made a move to push himself up with his arms and grimaced. Then Sam's hand shot out to gently touch his shoulder and he paused.

"Stay put sir," she told him gently with a comforting smile. "I can put it on for you,"

He nodded, laying back down carefully. Jack's eyes tracked her movements lazily as she unscrewed the cap on the ointment and collected a good amount on her hand. It smelled like aloe and mint. He then felt it contact his burning skin as she began gingerly spreading it over his sunburned back. Sucking in a hissed breath, he winced, then heaved a sigh of relief at the cooling numbness that washed over him.

"How does that feel, Colonel?" she asked softly, finishing up with the ointment on his back, and wiping the excess on her pants.

"Better," he breathed gratefully.

"Good," Sam nodded with a smile. She bent forward a little more to get a look at his face, but it wasn't red. His baseball cap had luckily shaded his face enough for it not to get burnt. Lightly touching his jaw, she pulled her hand back and smiled sheepishly when his chin jerked toward her. "Sorry sir," her cheeks flushed, and she was suddenly grateful for the lack of good lighting, "Just checking to see if your face got burned,"

"No," he told her softly, "It's fine,"

"Yes sir," Sam turned her head towards the water bowl when she realized she'd been staring at him. Dipping a cloth in the cold water, she wrung it out a little, then laid it over his back. She smiled when he heaved a sigh at the cool contact. "This will help too," she assured him gently.

"Mrm," Jack murmured contently, relaxing his head against his arms again and closing his eyes. He'd been a little ashamed to admit to himself how much he'd enjoyed her hands on his burning back, spreading the cooling ointment. Especially since it had less to do with the medicinal effects of the ointment, and more to do with the feel of her gentle, soothing hands on his bare skin.

Getting up for a moment, Sam walked half-crouched over to the entrance and lifted the tent flap, poking her head outside. Daniel and Teal'c were still seated around the fire, having just finished their MREs. Ducking back inside the tent, she sat down at Jack's side once more. "Are you hungry sir? Would you like me to get you an MRE?"

Opening one eye, Jack made a face. He would have much rather eaten one of the fish he'd caught earlier, so that it would almost make his sun burn worth it, but the native man had taken the food back to his village, and Carter had warned him that she suspected the fish may be poisonous to them and wouldn't recommend eating it until they had a chance to test the food.

"What's left?" he asked, severely disinterested in the food they had. He watched patiently as Sam briefly chewed her lower lip in thought. He loved when she did that.

"Um, tuna casserole and roast beef with mixed veggies I think,"

Jack made another face, then muttered, "Nah, I'll pass,"

Sam looked down at him worriedly, then carefully peeled the wet cloth from his back. His skin had begun to blister and looked pretty painful, but she hoped the ointment had numbed and cooled the burns enough for now.

Soaking the cloth again, she laid if over his back once more and then reached for her canteen. Gently nudging Jack's elbow, she held it out to him. "Here sir, have a drink,"

He lifted his head once more, opening both eyes this time. "Is it beer?"

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "No sir, just water I'm afraid,"

With an exaggerated sigh, Jack shifted to his side, propping himself up on an elbow. He took the offered canteen and drank greedily, surprised at his own thirst. Finished, he handed it back to her and laid flat once more.

"You know Carter," he mumbled after a few minutes' silence. "You don't gotta stick around and baby me. Go sit by the fire with the Daniel and Teal'c," His eyes were still closed.

Sam didn't look at all taken aback by his seeming dismissal of her. She knew he wasn't really pushing her away, but letting her know that he was okay if she didn't want to be there.

"What if I want to stay?" she whispered bravely, suggestively. After all the little awkward moments, she wasn't entirely sure what had come over her. Maybe it was her concern for him, or the fact that she had been breaking down his defensive wall little by little, or because she was getting sick and tired of hiding how she felt about him and wanted to know if he felt the same. Maybe it was all of the above.

Jack just tilted his head at her, brows furrowed slightly before he quirked a lopsided smile. Then, surprisingly, he reached out with his left arm and gently took her hand. "Well…" he paused, his deep brown eyes penetrating her blue ones and revealing just enough to let her know that he reciprocated her feelings, even if they both confirmed nothing aloud. "Then I suppose there's an upside to this sunburn thing after all,"

Giggling softly, Sam nodded and rubbed her thumb against his hand. She smiled at him and settled down for the night, prepared to stay and watch over him. The smile never left her face.

-


	9. You Always Hurt the Ones You Love

**Summary: **An off-world drug gives Sam temporary superhuman powers with terrifying consequences.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Drama, Romance

**Rating: **PG.

**You Always Hurt the Ones You Love**

She didn't know what had come over her. Janet had later said that it was the alien drug she was exposed to on that planet when she'd accidently locked herself in some hidden room within the ruins. It had made her aggressive. And she believed that, because she would never, _could _never hurt him like that.

But she did. She hurt him bad.

The drug released in that room had somehow enhanced her strength times ten for a short time after being exposed. It made her mean as hell too.

He'd been just coming to check on her progress with the coded wall panel she had been trying to figure out for the past hour and a half. He hadn't done anything to provoke her in the least.

She got angry, went to shove past him and keep walking. But the shove hadn't just pushed him out of her way, she'd practically thrown him through the old stone wall that crumpled when he'd hit it.

She remembered the horror she felt after seeing what she'd done. The hot tears that threatened to burst from her eyes.

When Jack was down, Sam wouldn't let anybody near him until the drug had worn off. She fought back anyone who tried to get to him, as though she was protecting him. Protecting him after she'd already caused enough pain.

Even Teal'c couldn't get near. She'd tossed him back too, surprisingly. Though, luckily for the Jaffa, he had his symbiote to swiftly repair the damage and hadn't gone through a wall.

Jack hadn't been so lucky.

Daniel didn't even try to get close after that.

-

Forced into an isolation room when they'd finally gotten back to base, Sam paced for a good forty-five minutes after she was checked out, before getting the all-clear. First thing she did was run to the main infirmary.

Dr. Fraiser stood patiently outside the door, clearly expecting her arrival.

"I need to see him," Sam blurted out, her voice quiet and choked with emotion.

Janet nodded slowly, understandingly. "He's going to be fine Sam," the petite woman told her gently. "He's got a concussion, two broken ribs, and some bad bruising on his back, but he's alright," she knew her friend was feeling guilty, and nothing she said was going to make Sam feel any less responsible. But telling her that Jack would be okay was obviously enough to offer some semblance of relief. It could have been worse.

Sniffling and carefully stepping around the doctor, Sam opened the door slowly and went inside the room.

He was sitting up at the edge of a bed on the far left of the room, awkwardly trying to pull his pants on under the breezy hospital gown.

"Jack," she breathed softly, hesitantly as she slowly made her approach. When he looked up at her and smiled that crooked smile of his, she could still see the pain in his eyes, but she half expected anger to be there. She should've known him better than that. She _did _know him better than that.

Leaning forward slightly, away from the bed with his feet firmly planted on the floor, he managed to get his pants the rest of the way up and quickly fastened them. Jack tilted his head, his eyes dark and understanding, seeing the sadness in her baby blues. "Fraiser told me what happened," he said, letting her know that she didn't need to explain her behavior, and also knowing she probably would try to anyway.

"Jack," Sam started to sit beside him on the bed, then stopped herself and just stood there, close, but not too close. Her eyes glistened with tears that threatened to fall. "Jack, I - I'm so sorry, I-"

He stopped her with a look, then reached out and trustingly took her hand in his own. "It's okay," he assured her gently, tugging on her hand until she sat down next to him. "I know you would never hurt me on purpose," His voice was surprisingly soft and gentle.

Sam sniffed, closing her eyes tightly to fight off the tears. "But I _did_ hurt you Jack,"

"Hey, listen to me," he commanded in a low, coaxing tone. "It wasn't you, it was the drug," Jack forced himself not to wince at the pain when he reached an arm behind Sam to rub her back in slow, soothing circles. "It's okay, I'm okay," he tried to convince her.

When he turned his head a little she could see the spot of missing hair where the small line of stitches closed the gash to the back of his skull. Her fingers lightly touched the top of his head, and she got him to lean forward a little. Sam very nearly started crying right then and there. The back of the gown Jack wore was open, and she could see the full extent of the bruising she'd caused, besides what was hidden by the bandage which wrapped his broken ribs.

Jack stiffened slightly when he felt Sam's fingers brush down his bruised back with feather-like touches. He didn't want her feeling any more guilty over what had happened. "Ah, could you get my shirt?" he asked softly, trying to drag her attention away from his back and pointing to the chair in the corner where his t-shirt was draped.

Sam sniffed softly and turned away, quickly wiping away the teardrops that had leaked from her eyes with the back of her hand. Getting off the bed, she picked up his shirt and quickly brought it back to him. "Did Janet even release you?" she asked him suspiciously, having to look away as he took off the hospital gown, trying to get his shirt on. She didn't want to see the pain she'd caused him anymore.

"I said he could go home, _only _if someone was going to be there with him," came Janet's voice from the doorway.

Sam inadvertently caught Jack's eye, and she didn't miss the pleading look he gave her. She turned, nodding toward Janet. "I'll be there," she confirmed to the doctor.

There was nothing to hide. Janet already knew she and Jack were together, as did the rest of SG-1. Hammond knew as well, and had been currently working something out with the President so that his premiere team wouldn't get split up and it's officers court-martialed. So far, as long as Major Carter reported directly to Hammond no one really had a problem with it.

If things went bad, either Sam or Jack were willing to take a civilian position at the SGC. And if that didn't work out, Jack didn't have a problem with retiring. At least, that's what he said. Sam knew otherwise though. There was too much for him to do right now, so much more good he could do for the world as a field commander against the Goa'uld. They both knew Jack wasn't ready to retire again, just sitting back and doing nothing.

"Sam?" Janet's voice brought her out of her reverie.

"Hm?" Focusing now, Sam's eyes drifted toward the small doctor.

Janet handed her two small orange containers of pills. "One of those is a painkiller, and the second one is to help him sleep if the first pills don't do the trick,"

Nodding distractedly, Sam pocketed the pill bottles and glanced behind her at Jack. He's managed to get his shirt on and was standing next to the bed with a hand on his chest. When he noticed her staring at him he dropped his hand and smiled crookedly, though the whisper of pain was still on his face. "Thanks," she whispered absently before the doctor approached Jack.

Janet gave Jack a reproachful look as she eyed him up and down. She waved a hand at the t-shirt he'd managed to get on. "You should've stayed wearing the gown. It's not going to be too fun trying to get that shirt off,"

Snorting in response, Jack gave a wry, twisted smile. "I'm not leavin' here with that ridiculous thing on." He straightened his shirt and took a slow step forward. "As for the shirt…. I'll manage,"

Sighing, Janet rolled her eyes. "Alright," she shook her head, then smiled pleasantly at the Colonel. "You're free to go. And you're off-duty for the next two days, then light duties for a little while when you get back. I've already cleared things with the General,"

"Thanks Doc," Jack nodded appreciatively and looked over at Sam as he stepped closer to her, grateful that he could go straight home without attending a debriefing. Teal'c and Daniel would be there for that.

Sam smiled tightly at him and tentatively wound her arm around his like she meant to steady him. "Ready to go?"

"Yep," He squeezed her hand without hesitation and walked with her out into the hall.

-

That night, Sam didn't sleep peacefully at all. She dreamt of having superhuman strength like she did back on that planet, but instead of throwing Jack through the stone wall and later taking him into the infirmary when the drug had worn off, she'd killed him. Jack was dead, and it was all her fault.

Her eyes snapped open and a hand flew over her mouth when she nearly cried out, waking from the horrible nightmare. Her face felt tight with dried tears, and wet with the fresh ones starting to fall anew.

She reached over to the side, her hand finding Jack's chest, and she accidently pressed down a little too hard as she sat up, causing him to groan and roll toward her, curling up to protect himself. "I'm sorry… God, I'm so sorry," she cried in a whisper.

Jack's eyes opened slowly and he moaned, squinting up at her with confusion as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Sam?" When he could see the tears glistening on her cheeks, he sat up painfully with a hand to his chest, holding his ribs. "Hey… What is it?" his voice was low, raspy from sleep, but gentle with his concern for her.

"I did this to you," she said sadly, her voice barely audible. "I hurt you Jack, and I'm so, so sorry. How can you trust me?" Sam's voice cracked and more tears spilled from her eyes.

"C'mere," Gingerly, Jack pulled her to him and slowly laid down again. She was crying into his shoulder. "Shh, it's okay Sam. Don't cry. Please. Shh," He reached over to grasp her hand, pulling it up to rest gently against his chest. "I trust you Sam. No matter what alien things are done to you, I trust you," he assured her gently.

She resisted at first, when he pulled her hand to his chest, but relented at his gentle words. Sam nodded against him, tears still trailing silently down her cheeks. Her fingers danced hesitantly along his bare chest, tracing invisible patterns that made no sense.

Janet had been right about Jack's shirt. When they'd gotten to Jack's house and he tried to get out of his t-shirt, it hadn't been fun at all. Sam could see that it hurt him like hell. His jaw had been clenched tightly and she'd known he was trying to hide how much pain he was in. Without a word, she'd retrieved a pair of scissors from the drawer in the kitchen and cut the shirt off of him.

"You know," Jack spoke in a light, wistful tone as he began playing with her hair, concentrating on the feel of her fingers on his chest, "That was one of my favorite shirts," he quipped teasingly.

Sam couldn't help it. She laughed. Tucking her face into his shoulder, she laughed. She knew what his favorite shirt was, and it wasn't that one. The one she'd cut was just one of the standard-issue t-shirts they all had. But that wasn't the point. He'd been trying to lighten the mood, make her smile and stop feeling guilty. And it had worked. Jack had that way about him. He could make you smile no matter the situation. She loved him for it.

"What?" he asked innocently after her laughter had died down. He grinned as she craned her neck to look up at him. With his chin down, he kissed the tip of her nose.

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered with a heartfelt smile, tilted her head and kissing his shoulder.

"For what?" Jack whispered, laying his head back gingerly and playing with her hair again.

She sighed against him, finally relaxed and calm, her nightmare all but forgotten. "For trusting me,"

He nodded slightly, smiled. "Always."

-

**Note: **This story was inspired by the idea of superpowers, provided by **xfirefly9x**. :) Thanks!


	10. Splash and Burn

**Summary: **Just some Sam and Jack summer fun at the cabin.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Fluff, Humor

**Rating: **PG13 for brief cursing.

**Splash and Burn**

The smell of charred meat and heavy smoke lingers in the air from nearly an hour ago. Even sitting out on the small dock, a good distance away from the cabin, she still gets a whiff every now and then on the warm evening breeze.

Sam can't help but giggle as she remembers, leaning back in the deck chair and staring out across the water. She hears his clanking footsteps on the planks of old wood behind her, but doesn't turn around.

It takes all her willpower not to burst out into full hysterics again.

-

"_Jack?" Sam comes around the outside of the cabin, carrying the small bouquet of flowers she picked on her walk. "What's that smell?" When she sees all the smoke and coughs, squinting against the burning of her eyes, her brows raise with surprise._

"_Sam! The deck's on fire!" she hears Jack yell from somewhere within all the black smoke._

_She runs up the steps where she's close enough to actually see what's going on now. Half the charcoal from the grill is spilled across the deck, still on fire. Sam doesn't even want to ask how that happened. But there's also a tipped bottle of lighter fluid amidst the spilled, flaming charcoal. She sees Jack frantically hopping on the coals, pouring his beer bottle over the flames in a poor attempt to douse them, and cursing loudly. _

_Abandoning her flowers on the deck table, Sam runs inside the cabin and grabs the small fire extinguisher in the kitchen closet. When she rushes back outside she sees that Jack has taken off his shirt and is trying to beat at the flames with it, not having much luck. _

"_Shit!" He swears loudly as his shirt swipes at the spilled lighter fluid and quickly begins to catch fire. Relinquishing his t-shirt to the wicked flames, Jack returns to his previous method of stomping on the coals with his boots. _

_Trying hard not to laugh at the sight before her - a half-naked Jack jumping up and down and yelling like a lunatic - Sam swiftly steps in and uses the fire extinguisher, spraying first the deck, then the grill. _

_The flames are soon gone, the only evidence left of the fire being the heavy smell of smoke and burnt wood lingering in the air, some ashy charcoal, and a few charred spots on the deck. _

_Lowering the fire extinguisher, Sam turns to look at Jack, still standing where the fire once was, a sheepish expression on his face combined with boyish innocence. Her eyebrows raise as he opens his mouth to speak._

"_Peanut butter and jelly?" he suggests with a shrug. The fish that had been on the grill were reduced to ash long ago, and there was no chance salvaging anything._

_Sam sets down the fire extinguisher with a dull 'thunk'. She cocks her head, taking in his appearance for a moment. His now-bare chest is blackened in some spots from the smoke, his hair is thoroughly fluffed and poking out in all directions, there's charcoal smears on his face, and his boots are half-covered in foam from the extinguisher. _

_Her lips twitch, and she bursts out laughing so hard that tears spring to her eyes. _

_Jack stands there, bewildered. He smiles after a second, mostly just glad that she's not mad at him for nearly bringing the entire cabin down in flames._

_-_

Jack steps up beside her chair on the dock. He cocks an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest. Her fit of giggles has turned into full-blown hysterics again. "I'm glad you think my ineptitude at grilling is so funny," he says with feigned hurt.

"I'm sorry," she waves a hand at him, the other covering her mouth as she tries to stop laughing. "I just can't believe you lit the deck on fire!" she laughs loudly again, leaning forward in her chair.

When she manages to compose herself, she twists in the chair to really look at him. He hasn't bothered to clean up or change still, even after they'd made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches instead of fish, and had eaten on the back porch. "Jack, you're filthy," she exclaims with a twitching smile.

He grins slyly and tilts his head to one side. "Oh yeah, you think so?" Smirking devilishly now, Jack gets behind her chair and in one swift movement, dumps her straight into the lake, clothes and all.

"Jack!" she screeches, splashing into the cool water and spluttering from the unexpected dunk.

He grins triumphantly from the dock, fists at either side of his hips in a proud pose. "Ha, I don't see you giggling now," he teases, winking at her when she glares at him and swipes her arm in the water, splashing him.

"Get your filthy butt in here," Sam orders with a smile, splashing him again.

Jack makes a face, then gives a nonchalant shrug and nods, backing up a few steps. "If you say so!"

Sam's brows furrow for a moment as he backs up, then she swims to the side as she realizes what he's going to do.

With just two easy strides of his long legs, Jack launches himself off the dock and tucks his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them mid-air as he yells, "COWABUNGA!!!"

The splash as Jack lands in the water sends a tidal wave over Sam's head and she splutters again, making a face as he rises back to the surface.

"That'll teach you to laugh at my cooking skills," Jack gives another triumphant smirk.

Spitting water in his face, Sam childishly sticks her tongue out at him and swims closer. "I wasn't laughing at your cooking skills," she tells him seriously, draping her arms over his shoulders when she gets close enough in the water.

He raises a skeptical eyebrow and places his hands at her hips as they tread water together.

Sam smiles and rakes a hand through his matted-down, wet hair, spiking it up again. "But next time, let _me _light the grill," she teases, laughing.

Jack snorts, then gets a wicked gleam in his dark eyes as he dunks her underwater.

-


	11. Acceptable Consequence

**Summary: **An accident on the job involving Sam leaves Jack contemplating his and his wife's future.

**Timeline: **Takes place in "The Changeling" fireman-verse of season six, with the same basic set up as in my ficlet 'As Long As She's Smiling'. Jack and Sam are married.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ, Teal'c, Jonas

**Genre: **Drama, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Alternate Reality

**Rating: **PG13

**Acceptable Consequence**

"The Captain's trapped!"

That's all he needed to hear. Jack was half-dressed in protective fire gear and a helmet nearly before the words had finished leaving the young probationary firefighter's mouth.

His buddy T was fast on his tail as they rushed through the collapsing rubble.

As Chief of the Coquitlam fire department, Jack wasn't really supposed to be involved in the action anymore, but instead giving orders from the sidelines. He couldn't do that this time, with his wife in danger.

He knew he was just proving the reason why married couples weren't supposed to be in the same firehouse, but he decided he'd rather be forced into retirement after this was all over instead of losing his wife.

"Where?!" Jack hollered after Jonas, ducking as concrete crumbled above them while they dashed through what was once the second level of a parking garage.

"Just over here!" the Probie yelled back, taking a corner and gesturing at a slab of concrete that had fallen over a narrow gap in the floor where a staircase appeared to have been.

Jack came to a skidding halt, his heart stopping painfully in his chest and fearing the worst; she'd been crushed.

Then a delicate, dirty hand shot up from the small hole, waving frantically, followed by a familiar voice. "In here!"

"Sam!?" Jack slid to his knees in the debris, just next to the concrete slab that blocked the gap in the floor she was apparently trapped in. "Are you hurt?" he questioned frantically.

"A little shaken up and bruised, but I'm fine!" she answered in a muffled, relieved voice. Sam had never been happier to hear her husband's voice. "This damn chunk of cement's got me trapped in here!" For a moment she could hear Jack discussing something with T and Jonas. Her ankle was sore from when she fell into the stairwell, but she'd gotten lucky enough not to be squashed and it wasn't worth complaining about, in her opinion.

"Hang in there, we'll get you out!" Jack called to her, looking around frantically for something they could use for leverage. He spotted a thick iron bar on the floor, half-covered by dust and crumpled debris. "Probie, grab me that rod over there!"

"Got it Chief!" Jonas hurried to grab the bar. More of the third level would be coming down on top of them if they didn't hurry and get Sam out.

"T, gimme a hand, will ya?" Jack took the iron rod from Jonas and jammed it under the slab of concrete. "We need some leverage!" he hollered over the roar of collapsing structures nearby.

"Here!" Jonas shoved over a cinderblock he'd found nearby. "Will this work?"

"We'll find out!" T told him as he moved the block in place and glanced at O'Neill to see if he was ready.

"Alright, let's do this," Jack nodded determinedly, then reached down into the hole, Sam's hand finding his. He squeezed it reassuringly. "Okay Sam, get down as much as you can, just in case," he instructed her with forced calm.

Sam tucked herself down by the stairs, holding her helmet firmly atop her head. "Ready!"

Jack and T leaned all their weight down on the bar, straining to force more pressure down as the concrete slab slowly began to lift. They managed to lever the slab up over the hole a little more than a foot. It should have been enough crawlspace for Sam to get through. At least, that's what Jack hoped.

"Go Sam! …_Go_!" Jack yelled in a strained voice. He and T were quickly losing their leverage as the iron rod began to slip, the cinderblock shifting beneath it. "Probie! Get her outta there! NOW!"

Nodding frantically, Jonas launched himself to the ground and reached into the gap to help the Captain.

Sam managed to grasp one of Jonas' hands as her feet found purchase within the cracks in the stairwell wall. She grit her teeth at the pain in her left ankle and scrambled up, squeezing out of the hole, her thick, fire-proof jacket making the task more difficult.

Struggling to hold the iron bar steady, Jack turned his head to see Sam dragging herself from the hole where the stairwell was. He saw Jonas grab at her jacket and drag her the rest of the way out.

"She's clear!" Jonas shouted, helping the Captain to her feet and back away a little more.

"Okay T, drop it!" Jack and T released the bar at once and jumped back as the cinderblock slipped and the concrete slab smashed back down over the hole, sending up a huge cloud of dust.

He didn't even have time to check if his wife was okay. It was much too dangerous to stay in the parking garage, and Jack still had to make sure the four of them lived through this. Grabbing Sam by the upper arm, he pulled her toward the way they had come. "Probie, T! C'mon, let's get our asses outta here!"

A little more than ten seconds after they cleared the building, the entire second level became part of the first.

Having to force back his emotions a little longer, until he could be with his wife in private, Jack stood staring at her for a moment as if in shock. Her face and hair was covered in dirt and dust, as was her jacket, and she looked as though she was favoring her left foot. The helmet she wore was now tucked under one arm, and she matched his gaze with bright, watery blue eyes.

They shared a silent communication with only their expressive eyes.

That had been _way _too close.

-

In the privacy of their home that night, Jack made love to Sam as though he nearly hadn't been able to see her ever again, which, in his mind, was frighteningly accurate.

Afterwards, as they lay in bed together, he clung to her desperately, holding her to his chest as he fell asleep. Their puppy, Boomer, was curled up in a ball at the foot of the bed, snoring quietly.

Sam had stayed awake, her head resting against her husband's chest, one arm draped across his stomach. He had both arms wrapped tightly around her, and even while he slept, Jack didn't appear to be letting go anytime soon. She didn't move, but she was worried.

She knew instinctively how scared he must have been when he was told she was trapped. She knew because it had scared her too, and because he must have felt that very same way a couple months back when he ran into a burning building to find her.

Knowing the department heads wouldn't be too happy with Jack once they found out about what happened didn't help ease Sam's concerns any, but despite all that, she managed to fall asleep, secure in her husband's arms.

-

Waking to the uncomfortable and persistent throbbing of her left ankle, Sam groaned and rolled onto her back, brows furrowing slightly when she noticed that Jack's side of the bed was empty. She already missed the feeling of his arms around her, keeping her close and safe.

Throwing back the covers and gingerly flinging her feet over the edge of the bed, she sat up, leaning over to massage the slightly-swollen ankle. She hadn't bothered wrapping it before going off to bed, and now she was regretting that decision a bit. Sam knew she should've iced the ankle as well, but she'd refused to go see the doctor after they all left the parking garage the previous day, and had decided for herself that she was fine.

Jack hadn't even tried to get her to go to the hospital to get checked out. He'd just been too shocked and relieved to argue with her, and only wanted to get his wife home.

When she looked up, Sam saw Jack striding back into the bedroom holding a pair of aluminum crutches, Boomer trotting happily along the floor beside him. She rose both eyebrows at Jack, but he opened his mouth before she had the chance to speak.

"Now I know you haven't needed to use a pair of these since you were fifteen, but _me _on the other hand…. Well, you know," Jack just held the crutches out to her as she gave him that 'Yeah, I know' look. He offered up a lopsided smirk as she took them from him. "Think you can manage?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded, rolling her eyes at him. Her blue eyes softened at his thoughtfulness, and she smiled back at him sincerely. "Thanks Jack," Sam levered herself to her feet and began hobbling toward the door as he stepped aside.

Grateful for the two days they had together before their next twenty-four hour shift, Jack and Sam both had time to relax, enjoying one-another's company without having to stifle their emotions around their co-workers.

Jack had an Ace wrap and icepack handy when Sam hobbled into the kitchen and took a seat at the table.

Sam didn't protest as he pushed a chair to sit in front of her and gingerly pulled her left foot onto his lap. She knew he need to do this as much as she needed the support of the bandage. He needed to take of her, and she understood.

Carefully setting her foot back down once he was done, Jack pushed back his chair and stood, heading for the refrigerator and digging around. "Want me to make something for breakfast? We've got…ah…eggs, and um…. Eggs?" He pulled his head out of the fridge and turned to her.

"It's okay Jack, I'm really not that hungry," she insisted softly.

Jack's brows furrowed as he closed the refrigerator door and eyed his wife with concern. "You feel okay?" Changing direction again, he went to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol, tipping a couple pills into his hand and taking them to her with a glass of water. "Here,"

Sam nodded, dry-swallowing the pills and then sipping at the water. "Thanks," she smiled thinly. "And I'm fine Jack, really,"

He stood in front of her, hands stuck into the pockets of his sweats. His dark eyes studied her almost warily.

When she watched Jack sit down, a serious, solemn expression on his face, she knew there was something on his mind. Reaching across the table, she lightly touched his hand. "What is it?"

He sighed, hung his head. "My supervisor called last night,"

Her brows furrowed slightly. "George?"

"Yeah," he nodded, took a deep breath. "He caught a lot of flak over my actions yesterday. The higher ups had a nice long chat with him about me,"

Sam tensed at his words, squeezing his hand. "And?" she prodded gently, knowing that whatever he needed to say was going to be difficult.

Jack rose his head slowly, looking into his wife's eyes. "And… I'm retiring Sam,"

She frowned, dragging her hand away from his. "You mean they're forcing you to retire," she stated, angry that they would do this to him.

He nodded, swallowed the lump in his throat. "If I go willingly, Hammond pushed for you to get a promotion,"

"What?" Sam looked at him, bewildered. "You mean-?"

"You'll be Chief." He nodded again, then rose his eyebrows and gestured with one hand, "And T gets to move up to Captain of course,"

Sam was still staring at him in disbelief. "But Jack, I…"

"It's okay," he smiled gently at her. "It's better this way," he paused briefly, tilting his head a little. "Besides, this promotion will keep you outta trouble,"

She knew what he meant by that, and it had her on the verge of being angry. But she couldn't be mad. He was afraid of losing her, and she was afraid of dying and leaving him as well.

"How's your ankle?" Jack asked her suddenly, breaking Sam's train of thought and not-so-subtly changing the subject.

Blinking, she mentally shook herself and daftly glanced down at her foot beneath the table. Eyes flicking back up again after a moment, she smiled tightly at him and said, "It's fine,"

He knew she felt guilty, that she was blaming herself. He needed to change that right away. His own reckless actions ever since he'd become Chief were to blame, and it would have happened sooner or later, even if she hadn't gotten in trouble those times he'd run headlong into a burning building or some other disaster to rescue her.

Jack knew that she really hadn't needed rescuing, especially that time a few months back when she'd rescued the little bedraggled puppy that had become the newest addition to their family. No, Sam hadn't even really been in trouble that time.

He knew that the other guys in the firehouse were perfectly capable of looking after his wife when he couldn't be fighting fires or performing rescues alongside her, and that she could clearly take care of herself most of the time, but Jack just couldn't sit back and do nothing. It just wasn't his way.

Sam knew it too. Her husband just wasn't cut out for a desk job.

There'd even been times he'd geared up with the rest of the guys to help out when Sam wasn't even in danger. It wasn't just her. There was no need for her to blame herself or feel guilty about her upcoming promotion. This was the way it had to be.

"Jack?"

Dark brown eyes lifted to meet her blue ones, and he smiled reassuringly at her, giving her a look that would make her understand. "This is gonna be okay Sam. It'll be good for us, I promise,"

Nodding in conformation, Sam reached for his hand again and squeezed it, smiling lovingly back at him. She sighed wistfully, nodding to herself again. "I know, Jack. I know."

-


	12. Confinement

**Summary: **Jack cares for a sick Sam.

**Timeline: **After 'Moebius', AU from there. Jack's still leading the SGC, and Janet's alive.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ

**Genre: **Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, AU, Romance

**Rating: **G.

**Confinement**

Something jolts him out of his doze, and he nearly falls off the couch as he rolls over, suddenly remembering that he was on the couch in the first place, instead of his own bed.

Blinking in the dark, Jack barely gives his eyes time to adjust before another sound, the one that had most likely woke him, has him scrambling off the sofa. He stumbles through the living room, bangs his shin on the coffee table as he goes and mutters a curse under his breath.

Flinging open the bedroom door, he rubs at his sleep-deprived eyes and makes his way over to the bed. "Sam?" His voice is rough from sleep and he clears his throat.

The lamp is on beside the bed, illuminating his wife's miserable face.

She's sitting up in bed, noisily blowing her nose on a tissue that is soon discarded among a pile of others in the small bin beside the bed. She coughs, sniffs, focusing goopy, bloodshot eyes on her husband.

"You need anything, sweetheart?" he asks in a genuine, caring tone. He knows he's not always good at this kinda stuff, but he tries.

Sam coughs, blows her nose again using the Kleenex box on her lap, then looks over toward the nightstand that'll take just too much effort to reach. "Cough medicine," she whispers raspily, wiping at her snotty nose.

Jack nods. He's still half-asleep as he scrambles to open the child-proof cap on the bottle of Nyquil and pour the syrupy liquid into the little plastic cup.

She watches him through bleary eyes. Sam knows he's had little sleep himself, that he's been up all day and night taking care of her as best as he can. She feels bad, but she's glad he's there for her. She thinks he looks cute with his eyes half-open, hair sticking out in all directions. A soft giggle escapes her lips as he hands her the little plastic cup of cough medicine.

His brows furrow and he eyes her questioningly with confusion. "What?"

"Nothing," she softly replies, smiling gently at him and downing the icky-tasting medicine. As he replaces the cup on the nightstand, she leans her back against the headboard and manages another smile as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. "I'm just glad you're here, Jack."

The sincerity in her tone makes him smile back at her lovingly. He places a hand on her knee gently. "Well, with you being sick, I managed to wrangle a few days off and got Reynolds to look after the base while Daniel watches after your geeks," He grins cheekily at her and is pleased when she laughs softly, shaking her head.

"'My geeks', huh?" She grabs another tissue and wipes at her red nose.

"Uh-huh," Jack smirks and lightly squeezes her leg.

Sam notices that he's trying very hard to keep his eyes open, and looks as though he wants to lay down beside her and go to sleep right there. She knows the couch isn't being kind to his back, but Fraiser would chew them both out if he got sick too.

"Go back to bed Jack, I'm okay," she assures him in a soft, raspy voice, reaching for his hand and lightly stroking her thumb over it.

He raises his head a little, nods, but doesn't get up. "I'll wait until you fall asleep," he assures her, and gestures that she lay down.

"Okay," Sam agrees, because she knows he won't leave until then anyway. She's starting to feel sleepy, her eyelids fluttering as the Nyquil starts to kick in.

Jack helps adjust the pillows at her back so that she's lying in a reclined position that will allow her to breathe easier as she sleeps. He lightly brushes the hair from her face and places a kiss on her forehead.

-

He's still there when she wakes as sunlight filters through their bedroom curtains in the morning. He's slumped uncomfortably on the armchair in the corner of the room, his head dropped sideways against his shoulder. He's snoring softly, and there's a wet drool stain on his t-shirt.

Sam smiles and sits up, suddenly realizing that her throat isn't sore anymore, her head feels a whole lot better, and her eyes aren't caked with gunk. Her nose still feels all sniffly and she's certain she's got a cough coming on, but all in all she feels ten times healthier.

"Jack," she calls to wake him, her voice still a bit raspy. She winces sympathetically at how fast his head jerks up at her croaky call, and she feels bad because he's been attending to her every need since she got sick.

"Sam," he chokes out sleepily, clears his throat. "You okay?"

She nods, scooting toward the edge of the bed and slowly flinging her legs over the side. Her skin feels sticky with the sweat of her fever, but she doesn't feel like she's got an elevated temperature now. She's just longing for a shower. Reaching for a tissue, she blows her sniffly nose. "I feel a lot better, Jack," she assures him, smiling.

He nods, blinks sleepily and rubs at his eyes. Straightening from his slump in the armchair, he rubs at the stubble on his cheek where he can feel dried up drool, and groans as his back cracks when he stretches.

Sam gets up, takes the next two steps until she's right beside him, and lightly runs her fingers through his mussed-up hair. "Thank you for taking care of me," she whispers with a genuine smile.

Jack appears more awake and less confused now. He can tell by the sound of her voice that she's truly feeling much better, and he's glad. He hates seeing her suffer, and she knows it too. He also knows it goes both ways. "Always," he promises in a low, affectionate voice, standing slowly.

She steps into him and wraps her arms around his waist, tilting her chin as she kisses the stubble on his face. Her head then rests against his chest as his arms wind around her back, and they're holding each other close.

In that moment Sam knows she's the luckiest woman in the world to have a guy like Jack O'Neill, and what warms her heart even more is that she knows he feels that same way about her.

-


	13. Tribulations

**Summary: **Jack is disturbed by dreams after becoming Hathor's Jaffa.

**Timeline: **Takes place in season one, after "Hathor".

**Characters/Pairing: **Jack/Sam, Janet

**Genre: **Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort

**Rating: **PG

**Tribulations**

Sam had finished off collecting samples from the burned Goa'uld larva in the locker room with Janet, and after insisting the wounded doctor allow her to give her a ride home, they decided that the research of the sampling could wait until tomorrow.

Changing into her civvies and meeting Janet topside in the parking lot, Sam paused at her car and looked around to the empty spots around her where Jack and Daniel usually parked. They had both been through a lot today, whether they remembered all of it or not, and Sam knew they'd each been eager to get off base and go home. Teal'c had gone home with Daniel to keep him company, and, she guessed, to keep an eye on him as well, but Sam couldn't help but feel some worry about the Colonel, knowing that he was all alone.

"Sam?" Janet questioned her friend softly as they both got into the car, noticing the distant, pensive look on Sam's face. "Are you okay?"

Smiling briefly to dispel any of the doctor's worries, Sam nodded and started up the car. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking what a crazy day it's been,"

"Hmph," Janet nodded with raised eyebrows as the car pulled out of the lot. "Yeah, I suppose you could put it that way," she laughed a little, fiddling slightly with the straps on her sling.

-

Leaving Janet's house, Sam decided to head toward Colonel O'Neill's on a whim. It was getting late, and she figured he may already be asleep, and this probably wasn't the best time to drop in for an unexpected visit, but something was telling her that she needed to see him.

She was worried about him, that's what it was. Something in her gut was telling her that he could use some company right now, despite the late hour. He may have been her CO, but they were teammates, and friends? SG-1 was a pretty tight-knit group, despite it being their first year together. They'd been through enough already to form deep, unbreakable bonds, and every one of them looked out for each other, whether on a mission or homebound on Earth.

-

Jack woke in a panic, sitting up quickly as his hands clutched at his stomach. It was just a ghost pain, he tried telling himself as he slid off the bed, swiping at the sweat across his brow. He was still breathing heavy, and he kept getting remembered flashes of Hathor doing things to him he wished had stayed hidden in his mind.

Getting a nauseas feeling that had nothing to do with pain, Jack scrambled to the bathroom, falling to his knees in front of the toilet before heaving into the porcelain bowl.

-

Having been sitting in her car outside Colonel O'Neill's house for fifteen minutes, Sam finally got the courage to go up to the door when she noticed a light turn on inside the house after it had been in total darkness a moment ago.

No longer worried that she might wake him, she got out of her car and jogged up the front step. With her hand raised to knock, she paused, hearing something like a faint thud from inside the house. She knocked loudly, but didn't receive any answer.

Suddenly feeling concerned, Sam tried the door handle. Finding it unlocked, Sam cautiously poked her head in. "Colonel?" she tried tentatively.

When there was no answer, she peered down the hall where she could see light, and then she heard the distinct sound of someone throwing up. "Colonel?" Sam stepped inside the house, instinctively making her way down the dark hall to where she could hear her commander retching.

Jack thought he was hallucinating when he pulled his head out of the toilet bowl and saw Carter standing in his bathroom doorway, looking concerned. "Carter?" he choked, sitting back on his heels and swiping the back of his hand across his puke-dribbled chin.

"Sir," she nearly stammered in a clipped, professional tone. "I was just stopping by to-" To _what_?! Sam thought to herself incredulously. To see if he was alright because she had a weird feeling?! No, no she couldn't say that.

Before Sam was able to formulate a response, O'Neill voiced his thoughts, staring at her and blinking with bleary, bloodshot eyes. "Am I hallucinating?"

She smiled, and her voice immediately softened. "No sir," she shook her head and took a cautious step further into the bathroom, reaching for a washcloth on the counter and wetting it in the sink before handing it to him. "I'm really here,"

Reaching out a shaky hand to flush the toilet, he tentatively grasped the cloth she handed him and wiped his face with it. Sam helped him to his feet, hanging onto his elbow when his knees wobbled and he was forced to grasp the counter. That was when he truly realized that she actually was standing there in his bathroom with him, and he wasn't delusional. "What're you doing here?" he murmured, still trying to quell the nausea that had had him lurching out of bed after the God-awful dream he'd had.

"Um," she stammered again, chewing her bottom lip. "I, uh, I was just coming to see how you were, sir. Teal'c is staying at Daniel's apartment with him tonight, and I knew you'd be alone and I… I was worried about you sir."

"Oh." Jack really didn't have anything to say about that. He was slightly taken aback over her genuine concern for him, so much so that he couldn't even feel really awkward about it. It made him feel good to realize how much SG-1 had become a close family that looked out for one another at all times.

"What're you doing in my house?" he asked slowly instead, running a hand through his already mussed-up hair.

"Well, I knocked, but there was no answer, and I thought I heard something from inside." Sam realized she was still holding onto his elbow and abruptly let go, shoving her hands into her pockets. "Your door was unlocked. I came in when I heard…" she gestured at the toilet, knowing he'd understand what she meant. "I was just acting on instinct sir, I'm sorry if I was out of line, I should go…"

She rushed the words out so quickly that it took Jack a second or two afterwards to realize she was about to leave. Without thinking, his hand shot out to gently grasp her arm. "No, wait," he swallowed down the uncomfortable lump in his throat when she stopped and turned towards him. Jack let his hand drop back to his side and straightened, though he still felt a little weak-kneed. "It's okay Carter, it's fine," he assured her raspily. He didn't want her to go. He didn't want to be alone.

Jack was suddenly scared when he realized that he needed her there so he could be certain that Hathor wouldn't be. His hand automatically moved to his stomach, fingers sliding beneath his t-shirt where he could feel skin. No pouch. Thank God.

"Sir?" Sam noticed his actions and grew concerned, studying him carefully. "Are you alright? Maybe you should lie down,"

"Huh?" Jack looked up, still rubbing at his stomach. "I'm fine," he mumbled distantly. Walking past her and heading back into his bedroom he added, "But I think I will lie down,"

Sam followed him into the bedroom after a second, shutting off the bathroom light as she went. She took in the sight of strewn about blankets and sheets, watching for a moment as Jack slowly tried to pull the linens back into place. Moving forward silently to help him, they managed to get everything into some semblance of order, then Sam held the covers back as Jack crawled into bed.

"Thanks Carter," Jack rasped in a low, gravelly voice. He rolled on his side, facing her and pulling the blanket up over his shoulders.

"Do you need anything, sir?" Sam asked hesitantly. "A glass of water or ginger ale? Something to settle your stomach?"

He groaned and closed his eyes. Jack's stomach was rolling and he hated the anxiety he was feeling over what had happened earlier that day. He didn't know what to say to Carter, but he didn't want her to leave either. It just wasn't something he could say out loud. "Water?" he murmured finally.

Sam nodded and left the room, heading for the kitchen. She knew her CO wasn't exactly sick in the traditional sense, and easily caught on to the fact that the psychological trauma of what Hathor did to him had caused O'Neill to be physically ill. That worried her.

When she returned with Jack's water, he looked like he was asleep. "Colonel?" she whispered softly, not wanting to wake him if he really was asleep. When he didn't answer, she set his glass of water on the nightstand and backed into the corner of the room, sinking into the armchair that was there.

He hadn't asked her to stay, or even implied that he wanted her to, but it made Sam feel better sitting there with him. She'd only intended to stay for a short while, but it was late, she was tired from the long, trying day at work, and it didn't take long before she'd fallen asleep.

-

Sam opened her eyes slowly and squinted in the lack of lighting, for a moment unsure of where she was. Her eyes widened with mild embarrassment when she realized she was still at Colonel O'Neill's house, and had fallen asleep on the chair in his bedroom.

She started to get up quietly, prepared to sneak out of the house when the sound of O'Neill rustling around on the bed got her attention. He was moaning and thrashing in his sleep. Sam hovered close to the bed in concern, but not within reach of either his arms or legs. Jack had gone through the occasional nightmare off-world, and for anyone who got close to try and wake him, it wasn't pretty. She kept her distance, but tried to wake him, not even thinking about how awkward it might be for him to wake up and realize she was still in his house.

"Colonel?" she tried tentatively. Her eyes glistened with worry as she watched his face contort as though in pain. She hated to think what he was dreaming about.

Jack's eyes snapped open and he clutched at his stomach, gasping. _Not again, not again, _he thought with a niggling panic in his gut. He sat up slowly and felt himself sweating, shaking uncontrollably.

"Sir?" Sam moved closer to the bed in his line of sight as his gaze swiveled and he began to take her in. She could see he was still panicking, guessing by his panting breaths, so, despite her better judgment, Sam sat on the edge of his bed and reached for his arm. "It's okay Colonel, you're safe," she assured him soothingly.

Sam tensed for a moment when he suddenly collapsed into her arms, breathing heavily and shaking. She relaxed as her heart went out to him, and she began to rub his back as though trying to console a frightened child. Seeing her commanding officer so vulnerable left her a bit shocked, and she was deeply concerned for him. "It's okay sir, Hathor's gone,"

It was quiet for a long moment as Sam held him, rocking back and forth slowly and continuing to rub soothing circles on his back.

"I'm sorry Carter," Jack whispered, pulling away slowly once he'd managed to compose himself and get his breathing back under control.

"It's alright," she assured him, feeling slightly bereft as he moved away from her, flinging his legs over the side of the bed. She smiled tightly, her eyes wandering toward the digital clock on his night stand. It was 0500, and she'd need to be up in a few hours to head to work. Now was a good time for her to leave, as much as she wanted to stay and make sure her CO was alright. She cared for him, maybe a little more than a friend and senior officer, but now wasn't the time to do anything about it. For the moment she needed to let him go.

"Will you be alright now, sir?" Sam asked softly as she got up and began to edge toward the door, clearly hinting that she was leaving.

He nodded slowly and took a deep, steadying breath. "Yeah," he heaved on the exhale, then smiled tightly. "I'm okay," Jack didn't want her to go, but he knew she needed to.

She paused in the doorway and turned slowly to gaze at him with understanding in her bright blue eyes. "Don't worry sir, this doesn't leave here," she assured him with a gentle smile.

He nodded gratefully. "Thanks… Sam," Jack watched her go, already missing her presence, but relieved in knowing that he had her in his life. He'd just gotten a taste of what it was like to be cared for by a woman again, and although he wanted more of that, Jack had hope that he and Sam would have their time, even if that wasn't right now.

-


	14. Words of Wisdom

**Summary: **Jack shares some priceless bits of knowledge with his SG family.

**Timeframe: **Nothing specific. Before season 7. Slight AU.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack, mild Daniel/Janet

**Genre: **Humor, Friendship, Whump, Drama, AU

**Rating: **PG-13 for some language.

**Words of Wisdom**

"_A good fire is just like a child, Daniel. You gotta feed it, nurture it, and watch it grow."_

Those were words of so-called Jack O'Neill wisdom that Daniel Jackson would not soon forget.

He'd decided to drop by his friend's house after work, thinking his buddy could use some company. After Jack had broken his arm in a sparring accident with Teal'c a few days ago, he'd been off-duty and given some time to recuperate at home once released from Janet's clutches.

Daniel had known that Sam was busy working on a project with a group of scientists on base for the past few days, and hadn't found a lot of time to spend at home with Jack. He was certain that Jack would be bored out of his skull.

What the archaeologist _hadn't _expected, however, was to pull into the driveway and see an enormous cloud of black smoke coming from the backyard. He'd hurried around back to find his friend throwing hunks of old, broken furniture into a fire pit dug in the ground.

"Jaaack," Daniel said calmly as he slowly approached the older man. Brows shifting up and down, he crossed his arms over his chest and pushed his glasses further up on his nose. "Ah… What'cha doin'?"

Without even turning to look at Daniel, Jack pulled a broken chair from a nearby pile of old furniture and tossed it into the fire one-handed. "I'm cleanin' out the garage like Sam's been askin' me to do for weeks."

"Oh." Both of Daniel's eyebrows moved up and down before he nodded as though Jack was making perfect sense. "I don't think this is quite what she meant."

Jack shrugged, then glanced at the archaeologist for the first time. He smirked and gestured toward the flaming pit with a plaster-coated right arm. "It took me all afternoon to dig that, ya know."

Daniel was actually at a loss for words at the moment. He didn't know what to say, simply nodded, running a hand through his hair and then shaking his head and smiling. "Only you, Jack, only you," he murmured under his breath.

Picking up a piece of an old oak shelf and tossing it into the flames, Jack turned and blinked. "What?"

"Nothing." Daniel took a deep breath and turned to look toward the porch. He could see several empty bottles of beer on the wooden table from where he stood. Great. Jack was on medication, drinking and playing with fire. That was a winning combination, Daniel thought with another shake of his head.

Jack pulled another piece of broken wood from the pile and tossed it in the fire. "So, Danny, what'cha up to?"

"Well, I wasn't doing anything at the SGC, so I thought I'd be a good friend and drop in to visit." Daniel stuck his hands in his pockets. "I didn't think you'd be setting fires in your backyard though."

"Daniel." Jack swung his gaze toward his friend with a no-nonsense tone to his drunken voice. "I'm not setting fires, I'm raising a living creature here!" he waved his arms around in emphasis.

Daniel was trying very hard not to laugh at how serious his friend could seem while inebriated. "Right Jack, whatever you say." Oh yes, Jack O'Neill had had one too many beers today, and _way _too much time on his hands.

Jack threw more junk on the scorching, orange-yellow flames. "A good fire is just like a child, Daniel. You gotta feed it, nurture it, and watch it grow."

Still trying not to laugh, Daniel shook his head and waved toward the house. "I'm gonna go in and get a drink, do you mind? And maybe a fire extinguisher," he muttered the last part under his breath.

"Go for it." Picking up the shovel he'd used to dig the pit, Jack used it to poke at the growing fire. The flames were getting really high, nearly brushing the leaves on the branches of the closest tree. "Grab me a beer while you're in there," he called back.

"Yeah, I think you've had enough," Daniel muttered to himself, rolling his eyes as he made his way up the porch steps and glanced around at the empty bottles there.

-

He'd only been gone for about five minutes, but when Daniel returned to the backyard, Jack's fire had spread out of the pit to the pile of furniture that was much too close to begin with, and Jack was waving his arms around with his cast on fire, cursing and yelling.

"Jack!" Daniel jumped down the porch steps and hurried toward his friend, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around to pour his water bottle over the flaming cast.

The fire doused, Jack was still cursing about his wood pile going up in flames as Daniel pulled him away from the fire.

Daniel hastily ran back toward the house, grabbing the hose and turning on the faucet to douse the flames.

Fifteen minutes later, the fire was effectively smothered, due to Daniel's work with the hose, and Jack trying, less effectively, to shovel dirt onto the flames.

"Sam is so going to kill you," Daniel muttered, shaking his head as he pulled a stumbling, filthy Jack into the house.

"Why?" Jack sunk into a chair at the kitchen table, wiping the soot and dirt from his left hand onto his jeans. The cast on his right arm was blackened and slightly melted away.

"If you don't know why, you're in enough trouble already." Daniel leaned against the counter and heaved a sigh. Jack was already starting to pick apart the damaged portion of his cast. "Stop that!" he scolded as if speaking to a child.

Jack innocently snatched his hand away from the cast and shoved it in his pocket. "What?" He frowned, scowling at the archaeologist.

Grabbing for the phone, Daniel dialed up a familiar number and waited patiently for someone on the other end to pick up. The smell of burning wood was still heavy in his nostrils, and it made him sneeze suddenly.

Pretty drunk still, Jack hadn't even noticed that Daniel was using the phone to tattle on him, and got up from his chair to go down into the living room, his muddy, sooty boots leaving a trail across the floor.

-

Janet was in her office, checking over some test results from one of her patients when the phone rang. She picked it up and answered, "Fraiser."

"_Hey Janet, it's me."_

"Daniel." The doctor smiled. "Where are you? I stopped by your lab to see if you wanted to get lunch, but you weren't there."

"_Yeah, sorry. I'm at Jack and Sam's place. I thought Jack could use the company."_

"Oh no," Janet thought aloud. She could hear something in Daniel's tone that suggested something had happened, though she wasn't quite sure what. The archaeologist didn't seem panicked, or overly worried, and that was at least a good sign. "What did Jack do?" she asked knowingly.

She could imagine Daniel grimacing over the phone.

"_Ah, he… Well, he caught his cast on fire to start."_

"He what?!" Janet exclaimed incredulously.

"_Yeah. I'll explain later," _Daniel promised. _"Is Sam still busy?"_

Sighing, Janet nodded to herself. "Yeah. Last I checked, she still had quite the work load."

"_Okay, well, don't bother her just yet, okay?" _Daniel hedged hopefully.

"Yes, alright, I won't tell her yet." Janet rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh. "Bring him in."

"_Okay. See you in a bit." _

"Uh-huh." Janet hung up the phone, shaking her head. Sam was going to get a kick out of this when she found out. But that would be later. Right now, she had test results to finish looking over before Daniel arrived with Jack, and she wasn't going to bother her friend.

-

Daniel was having a somewhat-difficult time getting Jack into his car to take him to the mountain. As soon as he'd gotten off the phone with Janet, the archaeologist realized that his friend had tracked a muddy trail through the house that would definitely need cleaning before Sam got home. Besides that, Jack was nearly covered from head to toe in a mixture of mud and soot.

Sighing, Daniel tromped down into the lounge where his semi-conscious friend was slumped on the couch. He was forced to practically drag Jack, cursing and grumbling, to the back door, where he shoved him out on the porch and commanded that he strip off his filthy boots, socks, shirt, and pants.

Daniel locked Jack out of the house as he went into the bedroom to get his friend a clean pair of jeans, a t-shirt, some socks, and sneakers. When he returned to the porch, unlocking the back door, Daniel fought to hold back his amusement.

Jack was standing outside wearing nothing but his boxers and a white undershirt, with his arms partially crossed over his chest and staring crossly back at him. "Lemme back in my house Goddammit," he slurred, swaying a little on his feet.

Daniel tossed the clean clothes at Jack and started to close the door again. "Put those on first and let me clean up this mess you made, _then _I'll let you back in," he promised smugly.

Grumbling and muttering under his breath, Jack started to dress. He was still feeling the effects of the alcohol and nearly fell over when he tried getting his pants on. Managing to properly clothe himself and get his shoes on after the third try, he impatiently began banging on the door. "Daniel!" He thumped harder on the door until a throbbing pain shot up his arm and he realized he was banging away with the broken one. "Ow! _Shit_, that hurts!" he cursed with gritted teeth, turning around in a circle and hopping up and down.

"Jack!" Daniel flung the door open to find his friend clutching at the burnt cast of his broken arm. "You okay?"

"I'm _fine_," he hissed back at him, glaring.

Sighing, Daniel stepped back and allowed Jack inside. His friend was still stumbling drunkenly, and hadn't been thinking clearly enough to realize that he could have simply walked around the house and gone through the front door to get back inside. Inwardly feeling smug, Daniel dragged his friend through the now-clean house, grabbing the car keys he'd earlier tossed on the kitchen counter, then taking Jack's keys and leading him out to the car, locking up the house on their way out.

-

Daniel tried valiantly to keep Jack quiet as they went through security checks and headed down the halls of the SGC. The older man had already stumbled into a wall and accidently knocked over a sergeant carrying a stack of files. After helping the Airman and apologizing profusely for Jack, Daniel then chased after his friend down the hall when Jack turned into the elevator and almost let the doors close without him.

"Jack, wait!" Daniel shouted as he hopped into the elevator just in time. He glared at his oblivious friend and went to hit the button from Level 21 when he noticed Jack had already hit the one for Level 19. "What are you doing?"

"Goin' t'see Sam," Jack slurred with a shrug as he leaned into the corner of the elevator.

"No, no, no, nooooooo." Daniel shook his head and quickly punched the button for the infirmary level. "You probably shouldn't do that just now," he said in a warning tone, one which his doped-up friend wasn't aware enough to pick up on.

Jack glared at the archaeologist for cancelling his floor but didn't make a move to do anything about it. "Why not?"

"Because," Daniel muttered with an exasperated sigh. Deciding to use his friend's current state of mind to his advantage, the linguist clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder and enthusiastically said, "Sam's gone down to see Janet and we're meeting them both there. Sound like a plan? It does to me!"

Jack's brows furrowed for a moment in thought and he nearly tipped over when the elevator came to a stop. "Oh." Scratching his head, he looked over at Daniel as they exited the lift. "Are we gonna get lunch?"

Daniel ducked his head to hide the smile and prevent himself from laughing. "Yeah, Jack. Sure. We'll take Sam and Janet to get some lunch, okay?"

He nodded and swaggered alongside Daniel toward the infirmary. "Yeahsureyoubet'cha."

Janet was just coming out of her office when they walked in, and as Jack began teetering sideways, Daniel grabbed at the back of his friend's shirt and dragged him over to the small doctor. She studied Jack as Daniel guided him over to one of the beds, taking in his attitude and the way he moved. "Daniel, a word please?" Janet waved him over to her when he turned around after getting his friend situated for the moment.

He heaved an exasperated sigh and stopped in front of the doctor. "Yeah?"

"Has he been drinking?" Janet asked frankly, waving over at Jack with raised eyebrows.

"Uh-huh." Daniel ran a hand through his hair and sighed again, shaking his head.

"Okay." Janet crossed her arms and gave the archaeologist a dark look. "I need the whole story. Now."

Daniel ducked his head and grimaced sheepishly, though Jack's predicament was in no way his fault. He quickly explained how he'd found his friend playing with fire in his backyard, and the several empty beer bottles on the deck, as well as how Jack had managed to catch his cast on fire.

Janet was shaking her head by the time Daniel had finished with the explanation. She then strode determinedly over to the still-inebriated Colonel and eyed him darkly. "Colonel, have you taken your painkillers today?" she asked him in a no-nonsense tone.

Jack made a face at her and blew out a breath before scrunching up his nose. "Ah…" He squinted one eye in thought and looked up toward the ceiling. "Yep. Yep I did do that… Take those. Yeah. Sam made me."

It was Janet's turn to sigh now. "Sure, the _one time _he actually does as he's told," she muttered with exasperation.

"What?" Jack nearly tipped sideways on the bed.

"What?" Daniel blinked, looking over at Janet.

"AND you've been drinking!" Janet cursed, surprising both men. "Of all the stupid, foolish…" she trailed off, grinding her teeth and closing her eyes for a moment to let her anger simmer.

Daniel grimaced. Janet was pissed, sure. But this was nothing. Just wait until Sam found out. He suddenly felt a little sympathetic towards his best friend.

Moving back over to where Jack was sitting, Janet waited until Daniel joined them before pulling the curtain closed around the bed. She pulled out her penlight, holding one hand on Jack's forehead to keep his head still as she shined the light in his eyes.

He blinked and shook his head as though dazed when Janet put the light away.

"His pupil reaction is a little slow, but that's because of the pills and the alcohol." Janet said aloud, mostly to herself, as she then took out her stethoscope.

Daniel now had his arms crossed in concern.

"Colonel." Janet looked at him seriously. "How are you feeling?"

Jack rubbed at his forehead with his left hand and blinked drowsily at her. "Wanna go t'sleep," he mumbled. His broken right arm rested limply in his lap. He moved it a little. "Arm kinda hurts."

The alcohol was like truth serum. He was never this compliant. Janet nodded and stepped closer after checking out his heartrate and breath sounds were okay. Sometimes mixing alcohol with painkillers could hinder breathing, and she worried that he might suffer more than just extreme tiredness from using the two at once. Pleased that he seemed relatively alright, Janet began examining the burnt cast, noticing that he'd singed his arm a bit. "You got burned?"

Jack blinked dumbly down at his arm, staring at the red, slightly-blistering skin around the area where his cast had melted. "Guess so." He shrugged.

Janet heaved a sigh and tried not to roll her eyes. She looked over at Daniel again. "Alright, I'll need to cut this cast off, then I'll treat the burns and put on a removable cast."

Daniel stared at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why didn't you just get him a removable one in the first place?"

The doctor shot him a look of her own as though asking, _Are you serious?! _"Because, knowing the Colonel, he would have taken it off way before he was supposed to."

"Oh." Daniel shrugged, then glanced at his friend who was currently staring at his arm in a drunken stupor. "What's to prevent him from doing that now?"

"Sam." Janet smirked. "After this stunt he probably won't dare disobey my orders. Or hers."

"Ah." The archaeologist nodded in understanding, unable to hide the slight smirk of his own.

"Okay." Janet put one hand on her hip. "I'm going to go get a nurse to help me with his cast," she pointed at Daniel, "and _you're_ going to get Sam."

Daniel grimaced. Jack would sure be in for it now. Not wanting to deal with the doctor's wrath, the archaeologist nodded acquiescently and left the infirmary.

Janet pointed a stern finger at Jack before walking away. "And _you_, stay put!" she commanded.

Jack lifted his head, wide-eyed, and gave an innocent shrug.

-

Finding Sam busily working in her lab with Dr. Lee, Daniel hesitantly asked to see her outside, trying to detect her mood before explaining everything that had happened.

Sam cursed under her breath, then stormed off angrily toward the infirmary with Daniel fumbling to keep up with her. "That damned ignorant sonofabitch!" she growled, swiping her card at the elevator.

Daniel barely had enough time to hop into the lift before the doors closed. He decided it might be a good idea for him to stay with her in case she tried to kill Jack. He grimaced, not even bothering to try and calm her down. He knew it would be useless. She was beyond ticked off, and there was no getting in Samantha O'Neill's way when she was like this.

Sam burst into the infirmary, ready to start fuming and yelling at Jack, but every ounce of anger seemed to drain out of her when she saw him. There was a nurse off to one side, cleaning up the sawed-off remains of his cast while Janet tended to the burn on his arm. He looked so pathetic and miserable right then, she just couldn't find it in her heart to be mad. That would be for later.

Janet hadn't noticed Sam and Daniel right away as she put ointment on Jack's burn while trying to get him to keep his arm flat on the tray table. She finished taping gauze over the burn when Jack flinched and pulled his arm away with a grimace. "Colonel, hold still!" Janet commanded. "Put your arm back down, I need to put the splint on now."

"I don'eed it," Jack grumbled dopily in refusal, holding his broken arm to his chest.

"Jack," Sam spoke up, stepping forward into the room with a hesitant Daniel in her wake.

Hearing his wife's voice, Jack leaned sideways where he sat on the bed, peering past Janet and grinning, totally oblivious to how much trouble he was in. "Heya Sam."

"Jack, do what Janet tells you," she said sternly, coming to stand beside the bed with crossed arms.

Pouting, Jack reluctantly offered his arm to the doctor again. Even in his stupor, he could tell that Sam meant business and it was probably best to do as she told him.

Sam sat beside him on the bed as Janet began strapping the soft brace to his arm, being careful of the burn she'd just bandaged. The limb obviously hadn't healed enough yet, and Sam could see it was still a bit discolored on the surface.

Daniel made himself invisible in the corner of the room, a little surprised that Sam wasn't shouting at Jack by now, but relieved all the same.

Feeling a surge of concern when Jack groaned softly in pain as Janet finished with the splint, Sam absently reached up to run a hand through his hair. She heaved a long, defeated sigh. "Janet, is it okay if I take him home now?"

The small doctor looked between Sam and her husband. The Colonel seemed like he was barely hanging on to consciousness now, and Janet figured he'd had enough punishment for one day. "I suppose so." She smiled at Sam. "And no painkillers for several hours. At least until he's sober again. Also, if you notice him having a hard time breathing or anything I want you to call me right away."

"Got it." Sam nodded and began to lightly stroke the back of her husband's neck. "Come on fire starter, you ready to go home?"

Jack cocked his head and sent her a dopey grin, his eyes half closed. "Yeahsureyoubet'cha."

Daniel straightened from where he leaned against the wall and stepped out of the corner as Sam guided Jack toward the door. He smiled at her and patted her shoulder. "Keep the matches out of reach, will you?"

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Sam nodded and dragged her doped husband away when he turned back to Daniel and started asking when they were going for lunch. "Come on Jack, we'll have lunch at home."

He furrowed his brows and stuck out his lower lip, stumbling along at Sam's side. "But Danny said-" he whined, but she interrupted him.

"Forget it Jack!" Sam growled sternly, firmly gripping his left arm and tugging him into the elevator as they made their way to the end of the hall.

-

Sam opened up the front door and lightly pushed Jack inside the house. Leaving her husband for just a moment, she went to the back door and stepped out onto the porch. She just had to see what he'd done to their backyard.

The first thing Sam noticed was the pile of muddy clothes and shoes dumped on the back deck. Then, her eyes traveled upwards to peer at the yard itself. There was a muddy pit filled with broken remnants of furniture and ashes that trailed out of the pit and into the previously-untouched grass. Sam groaned with a hand to her forehead. "Jack, Jack, Jack," she sighed, shaking her head and smiling despite it all.

Going back inside the house, Sam found him standing dumbly in the middle of the hallway just in front of the door. He looked absolutely lost, and as though a faint gust of wind could knock him over. "Jack, why don't you go lay down for a while, then we'll have some lunch." She started moving toward him when he lifted his chin and groaned suddenly, shaking his head and putting a hand to his stomach as he backed into the wall.

Sliding to the ground, Jack moaned miserably, his eyes closing before he suddenly forfeited the contents of his stomach, all over himself.

"Oh, Jack." Sam sighed, kneeling down at his side in concern and putting a hand to his forehead. It had to have been the very bad combination of alcohol and painkillers. She frowned at the mess all over him, then grasped his left arm firmly and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, let's go get you cleaned up."

-

Sam spent the next half hour quietly telling Jack what a stupid thing he'd done while she removed his soiled clothes, got him into the bath, and washed him up. Now if this wasn't love, Sam didn't know what was.

He was limp and sluggish still, so Sam was doing all the work. She'd been working hard in the labs all day and she was tired, and so not in the mood for this. "Okay Jack, bed now." Sam had gotten him to change into some sweats and a t-shirt, and was now guiding him to the bedroom, an arm securely around his waist.

"Sorry," he mumbled as she deposited him on the bed and began drawing the covers up over him.

"Yeah, I know Jack," she tiredly replied, crawling onto the bed and lying down on her side next to him, head propped up on a elbow. Sam smiled briefly at him when he turned on his side, facing her, his eyes closing. She reached a hand up to lightly comb her fingers through his unruly hair as she rested her head on one of the pillows.

Jack was soon snoring softly, and Sam sat up for a moment, pulling the blanket from the end of the bed over the both of them before joining him.

-

Sam woke two hours later and crawled off the bed while Jack still slept soundly. She stood there beside the bed for a moment, just watching him. A loving smile spread across her face as she gazed at her husband. Painkillers always seemed to make him snore. Leaning down to give him a soft kiss on the cheek, Sam brushed back his hair lightly with the tips of her fingers, pulling the blanket further over him and quietly slipping from the room.

It was ten minutes later, and Sam was sitting on one of the deck chairs, looking out onto the backyard when she heard Jack come outside. She didn't move or turn around as the sound of his footsteps got closer, and soon he had his arms wrapped around her from behind, his chin resting on her left shoulder and his right arm awkwardly draped across her chest.

Jack tilted his head and gently kissed her cheek before standing back and then coming around to lean up against the railing. He ran a hand through his hair and gazed out across their ruined yard, a grimace coming over his face as he really looked at what he'd done. "Yikes," he murmured quietly.

Sam stood and moved beside him, their shoulders touching. She remained quiet, not saying a word for what seemed like a long time, and felt Jack shifting uneasily beside her.

"I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely in a low, gentle voice. Jack vaguely recalled telling her that earlier when he wasn't quite as lucid, and hoped that the sincerity of his words would come out better now. "I'm sorry about destroying the yard." He flinched when she sharply turned her head toward him, eyes narrowing and brows furrowed. _Crap. What the hell did I do now? _He wondered, grimacing. _I guess that wasn't the best thing to say… Uh…_

Sam just shook her head at him, rolling her eyes. "Jack, it's not the yard I care about!" she almost shouted, biting her bottom lip.

"Uh… I-" Jack trailed off, not knowing what to say and dragging a hand through his mussed-up hair.

She heaved an exasperated sigh and turned back to stare out at the back yard, leaning against the wooden porch railing. "I'd rather lose the yard, the house, _everything_…than lose you." Her voice was so soft and practically whispered.

Jack's eyes widened in realization and he faltered dumbly for a moment before taking his wife into his arms and holding her, rocking slowly from side to side. "I'm so sorry for being such an idiot," he whispered against her hair.

"Jack, there's a warning label on those pills for a reason," she said seriously into his chest.

He grimaced. "I was just gonna have _one _beer. Then… Well, that one turned into two and that turned into…"

She snorted and slowly pulled away from him. "Yeah, I know," she said in a lighter tone. "Daniel had all the bottles in the recycling bin. I saw."

"Sorry," he apologized again, expression sheepish.

Facing him, Sam cupped the side of Jack's face and managed a loving smile. "How's the hangover?"

He made a face. "Not too bad." Jack would deal with the nausea and headache. He was feeling too guilty to make her feel more sympathetic towards him than she already did. He glanced back toward the yard again. "So, after all this you sure you don't wanna kick me to the curb?" he asked half jokingly.

Sam just smiled teasingly back at him. "And let you off that easy, Jack O'Neill? No way!"

"Hmph." He grinned and snaked his left arm around her waist as they headed back inside the house. "You must _really _love me."

"Sure do."

-The End-


	15. Codetta

**Summary: **Jack and Sam face their biggest battle together.

**Timeframe: **AU post "Moebius". Both Janet and Jacob are still alive.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Tragedy, Angst, Drama

**Rating: **PG-13 (for sensitive material)

**Warnings: **I've been told by **_pain in the mikta _**that there should be a warning such as this. So, keep some tissues handy!! :)

**Codetta**

They lay in bed together, wrapped in one another's arms, Sam's head resting on Jack's shoulder, legs tangled, one hand lazily tracing circles on his bare stomach. It had been their fifth wedding anniversary, and the day had been spent celebrating among friends and family. Both exhausted after the party, they'd gone home to shower and snuggle up in bed.

It was eleven thirty at night when Jack groaned softly and began rubbing at his chest, thinking Sam was asleep already.

"Again?" she asked softly with concern, propping herself up on an elbow to look at her husband. He'd been getting chest pains for the past week, but Jack always convinced his wife that it was just stress from work or heartburn. They were getting more frequent now, and she wasn't buying the excuses any longer.

He nodded slowly with a faint grimace and a sigh.

"Tomorrow I'm calling Janet and scheduling an appointment," Sam said with finality.

For once, Jack hadn't argued.

-

The X-rays and scans had been conclusive. There was lump on Jack's heart. A biopsy had to be taken the following day.

It was one of the scariest moments in Sam Carter-O'Neill's life.

Jack had cancer, and it was inoperable.

He started chemo and radiotherapy a week later, and shaved his head before his hair even had the chance to start falling out.

Sam spent a lot of time trying to be strong in front of Jack, and crying secretly in dark rooms when no one was around. The thought of living without him was far too much to bear most of the time, and she was barely able to keep the mask up around him.

"It's gonna be okay Sam," Jack assured her confidently, gently stroking the soft, delicate hands held gingerly between his own rough, callused ones. "We'll get through this."

"Yes," she nodded with all the confidence she wasn't feeling. "We will."

Sam was a constant at Jack's side while he suffered through the effects of therapy. It was a long, wretched process, but she never left him. As much as it hurt her to see him like this, it would hurt even more not to have him around at all. She loved Jack more than anything, and he loved her the same.

Their friends and family were there as well, their visits full of love and encouragement for the struggling couple. Jack was a part of their family as well, even if not by blood, and they would not give up on him.

When Jacob came to visit his daughter and son-in-law, Sam wasn't able to hide her grief any longer. While Jack was resting, she threw herself into her father's arms.

"Dad, I'm so scared!" she sobbed into his shirt as he held her.

"I know sweetheart, I know." Jacob stroked his daughter's hair as though she were still a small child. It had taken his Sam long enough to find her happiness, and he would do whatever was in his power for her to keep it. But right now, he was helpless.

The war with the Goa'uld was over, and many of their allies had other problems of their own and were unable to even be contacted. There was no one to help this time. Sam and Jack were on their own in this struggle.

-

After much suffering through therapy and drugs, Jack's cancer had finally gone into remission. He and Sam got on with their lives, living for every moment they had together, and savoring it. They'd spend hours just sitting together, holding one another, or watching the stars. They shared breakfast every morning, read the paper together, and enjoyed time with their friends.

Then after three months, Jack got sick again. His cancer had spread, and he wasn't feeling strong enough to go through the chemo this time. The doctors didn't think his body could handle it this time around. He was just too sick.

Jack was dying, and he wanted to spend whatever precious time he had left with his loved ones.

"I just want to go home Sam," Jack told his wife weakly after some long, arduous tests at the hospital.

She nodded, teary-eyed, and gently cupped the side of his face. "Okay Jack, let's go home."

He was released from the hospital that very day.

The doctors had given Jack pills to make him comfortable, and had made sure Sam had an oxygen tank for him if his breathing got too bad. The cancer had spread to his lungs, and he'd wake sometimes in the night, gasping and unable to breathe properly, the little air he was taking in causing him to wheeze. Those nights were the hardest for Sam. It was worse than when he'd been up puking and shaking from the chemo. At least then there was hope. But now, she was terrified of losing him to this battle.

One night when the pain and the wheezing was almost too much, Sam sat up with Jack until the sun rose, illuminating their bedroom in soft, summer light. Tears had streaked relentlessly down her pale cheeks when he had begun to cry, sobbing against her and apologizing, grief-stricken by the thought of losing her and leaving his angel alone.

"I don't…wanna leave you..Sam," he gasped, choking on his own tears. "I'm scared."

Sam stroked his cheek, holding him against her chest. She knew he could feel every sobbing breath she took. "I'm scared too."

Three days later, Daniel came over with Janet as she was visiting to check up on Jack and bring over some new painkillers. The archaeologist sat down in one of the wooden chairs on the back deck where Sam was lounging in her chair and enjoying the beauty of the warm summer day.

"Hey." He smiled slowly, noticing the chirping birds fluttering around the back garden, flowers blooming with gorgeous shades of purples and reds.

Sam glanced over at him, smiling. It was a sad smile though, that was obvious. She was mourning over the warm sunshine and bright blue sky, knowing that her husband wouldn't have many more days like this left.

"How's he been doing today?" Daniel asked quietly, his voice soft and light, trying not to think about what his life was going to be like without his best friend in it. He knew Jack's time was quickly running out, but it was still something Daniel wasn't yet ready to face. None of them were ready.

"He's having a good day today." Sam managed a genuine smile as her eyes locked with Daniel's. "He was smiling, laughing." She paused, her face tightening briefly in a valiant attempt not to break down in tears. "We had lunch out here on the deck, and I made barbecue chicken." Sam just couldn't find it in her to keep up the front right now. Her walls crumpled and she choked back tears.

Daniel got out of his chair and went around the table to Sam, tugging her gently to her feet and pulling her into his arms. He rubbed her back soothingly as she collapsed against him and began sobbing.

-

Sitting at the edge of her friend's bed in the cool, air conditioned house, Janet offered Jack a glass of water as he sat upright, propped up by pillows. She'd just finished checking his blood pressure, and was about to press the disc of the stethoscope to his chest to listen to the wheezing rattle in his lungs and the labored stutter of his heart she knew she would hear.

Today had been a good day for him, but Jack was still getting worse. It was a hard thing to watch, as his doctor and his friend. Janet knew they were losing him.

He jumped as the cold metal of the stethoscope touched the warm skin of his chest, and smiled crookedly at her. "Jeeze Doc, wanna…warm that..up..next time?" he teased weakly.

"Sorry," she apologized with a smile. It helped Janet to know that no matter what, he was still the same Jack O'Neill she had come to know and love as a good friend, and the husband of her own best friend. The humor and sarcasm was still there, as well as the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and that boyish smile. You had to look a little harder to find them these days, but they were still there.

"All done?" Jack asked a few minutes later.

Janet patted his leg. "Yep, you're all set for today. Do you have any questions or anything?" she asked softly, still in doctor mode.

Jack's brows twitched faintly, his expression turning somber and serious. His hands folded slowly in his lap and he sighed. "I know I don't…have much time left Doc," he said somberly, voice so low that Janet had to struggle to hear him.

"Jack-" she felt her eyes watering instantly and willed the sting of tears away.

He shook his head, raising a shaking hand to interrupt whatever she was going to say. He had to get this out. "Just… I wanna make sure..Sam's..taken care of." Jack breathed slowly and as deeply as he could. "You guys…look after her for me…okay? Please."

Taking Jack's frail hand in her own, Janet nodded and gave the hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "We will Jack, I promise."

That was the last of Jack's better days.

He slept most of the days that followed, and then a week later, he knew he'd had it. There was no fighting this anymore. Jack had felt himself going for the past day or two, but he'd been fighting it, for Sam. He just didn't have the strength any longer.

With Sam lying in bed next to him that afternoon, tears streaming down her face with every shaking, strained breath he took, Jack spoke his last words.

"I love…you Sam. Always."

"Me too, Jack. Me too." Sam cried as she lay against him, her head on his chest, no longer rising and falling with his breaths, unable to hear the short stutters of her loved one's heart.

-

The next morning no one was able to get in touch with the O'Neills. Daniel, Janet, and Teal'c had gone to their friends' home, fearing something had happened.

What they'd found was an empty house, and empty bedroom, with two sets of clothes lying abandoned on the bed as though the wearers of the clothing had just disappeared.

The bedroom windows were closed, and the sun was shining and warm outside. When the three friends felt a gentle breeze flow past them, they looked at each other knowingly and smiled. Both Jack and Sam had ascended, together. Sam hadn't been dying like Jack was, but apparently someone helping them out already knew that they were always meant to be together no matter what, and Sam wouldn't have been able to go on without him anyway.

Although it pained them to know their friends were both gone, Daniel, Janet, and Teal'c all realized that Jack and Sam would be okay, together, and their final ending was still yet to come.

_**Codetta; **__(Italian for "little tail," the diminutive form) has a similar purpose to the coda, but on a smaller scale, concluding a section of a work instead of the work as a whole._

-Fin-

**Note: **This story was very difficult for me to get through, 'cuz I kept tearing up while writing it. :) Hope the happy ending made the sadness worth it. Thanks for reading.


	16. Turkey, Peanut Butter, and Cheetos

-1**Summary: **Sam's got some odd cravings.

**Timeframe: **Post Threads, AU.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Fluff, Romance

**Rating: **G

**Turkey, Peanut Butter, and Cheetos**

It was the middle of the night, and he was cold. Damn cold. Because Sam had stolen at the covers and….

Jack rolled over in bed and sat up, blinking in the lack of light. Sam wasn't there. He rubbed his tired eyes and crawled out of bed, finding his warm robe and throwing it on before padding out of the dark room.

The first thing he did while shuffling down the hallway was to stop and check the thermostat. Sure he'd been cold because all the blankets had been on one side of the bed, but damn was it chilly!

_Fifty degrees?! _Jack balked at the temperature. Was she _trying _to turn him into a popsicle?! He knew Sam was having hot flashes with the pregnancy and all, but it was still _March_, for cryin' out loud! Did she _have _to turn the heat off?!

Pulling his robe tighter around himself, Jack slowly made his way down the (thankfully) carpeted stairs, shivering and muttering to himself about hormonal pregnant women.

He quit mumbling under his breath when he stepped into the kitchen, squinting his eyes against the sudden onslaught of lights. Jack cocked his head to the side as he watched his very pregnant wife pile food items on the island counter. He blinked and yawned. Loudly.

"Jack!" Sam looked up, startled. She smiled tightly at him with a faint grimace, licking peanut butter off her fingers. "Did I wake you?"

"Sorta." He shrugged and leaned tiredly against the door frame. "It's freezing in this house." Jack crossed his arms to try and preserve some warmth, his toes quickly losing all warmth through the cold blue tiles.

"Sorry. I was hot." She smiled sheepishly and went back to work, turning around and digging something else out of the fridge.

Jack braved a few steps forward onto the ice cold floor and quickly climbed up on a stool at the breakfast bar so he could lift his feet up. His brows furrowed as he leaned forward to try and see what sort of thing she was concocting tonight. "What're you doing?"

She smiled up at him. "I was hungry. I'm just making something to eat."

Eyebrows raising, Jack chuckled. "_What _exactly are you making to eat?" His dark brown eyes caught a glimpse of something orange next to the bag of bread and turkey cold cuts.

"A sandwich," Sam answered as though it were obvious.

Shaking his head, Jack smirked to himself and got off his seat, coming around the counter to see what Sam was actually putting on this so-called sandwich. He blinked at her selection and chuckled, flicking his finger at the bag of chips. "Turkey, peanut butter, and...Cheetos?"

"Yeah. It's good. Want some?" She smashed the top piece of bread onto the sandwich with a crunch and waved it in his face.

He grimaced, leaning back slightly and waving a hand. "Ah, nah, I think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself." Sam smiled, putting the sandwich back on the counter for a moment before neatly slicing diagonally. Sliding her food onto a plate, she then moved around the counter, waddling her way over to Jack and slowly managing to sit on the seat beside him. After taking a big, crunchy bite of her strange sandwich, Sam smiled and briefly closed her eyes. "Mmm, now that's good."

"I doubt it," Jack muttered softly, watching his wife eat. He couldn't help himself. Even with an enormously pregnant belly, no make-up, and sleep-tousled hair, she was gorgeous. And she was all his. He was grinning like a madman.

Sam shifted a little on her chair and cocked her head at him when she noticed that he was staring. "What?" she mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"Nothin'." Jack just smirked and reached out slowly to put a gentle hand on her protruding belly. "You think the baby actually likes all that junk you're eating?" he joked softly.

She shrugged with a small smile and took another bite.

Jack shook his head. He twisted sideways on his stool and placed both hands on Sam's stomach, rubbing in soothing, gentle circles while she ate. "Your mama is treating you like a garbage disposal again, kiddo," he whispered to her belly with a grin.

Sam giggled as she watched him, thinking Jack was just too damn cute when he talked to her stomach. She felt the baby kick when he slid off his stool and pressed the side of his face against her big round belly.

Nearly falling backwards in surprise, Jack exclaimed, "Our little soccer player just kicked daddy in the face!" He was grinning ridiculously.

Laughing loudly, Sam nearly spit up her food. "That was for the garbage disposal crack." She playfully swatted her husband's arm when his hands returned to her stomach.

He shrugged innocently, standing from his crouch in front of her. Leaning forward, he kissed the tip of her nose lovingly before moving to her mouth.

Sam laughed against his lips as he placed his hands back on her belly and the baby kicked again.

Jack pulled back with a snort. "I don't think the kid likes me too much."

Sam just smiled and shook her head. "No, she's just trying to get her daddy's attention."

Chin snapping up to look his wife in the eyes, Jack's brows rose, a brief sparkle in his chocolate eyes. "_She?_" When Sam nodded back at him, he grinned crookedly, a dazed, happy look on his face. "I thought we were gonna wait. When did you find out?"

"I didn't." Sam shrugged, then took her husband's face in her hands and pulled him toward her until their lips met. "Just a feeling."

Jack smiled against her soft lips, one hand moving behind Sam's head while the other lovingly stroked her very pregnant belly.

The baby remained still.

-The End-


	17. Little Miss Attitude

**Summary: **Jack's way too amused at Sam's predicament for his own good.

**Timeframe: **Any.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack.

**Genre: **Humor

**Rating: **T (for one teeny sexual reference)

**Little Miss Attitude**

"Jack! This is SO not funny!" An indignant Sam growled in a surprisingly squeaky voice.

"Sorry." Jack chuckled, holding his sides. He just couldn't help himself. "You're just so darn cute!"

Her threatening glare and a swift kick to his shin were just about enough to wipe that smirk off his face.

"Ow!" He frowned, hopping back away from her and holding his shin. "What was that for?!"

She crossed awkwardly skinny little arms over her chest. "For being so smug!" Her crystal blue eyes narrowed again, once more giving Jack her best death glare.

Jack forcefully kept his mouth shut for a moment and gave his wife some space as she tried and failed to get up on the bed again. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his pajama bottoms and rocked back on his heels. "Ready to admit you need some help now?"

Sam heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes before reluctantly raising her arms.

Bending over, Jack obediently picked Sam up and gently set her down on their bed. "Okay?"

"You're _so _lucky I'll be back to normal by tomorrow," she muttered under her breath, crawling beneath the covers.

Jack smirked and climbed into bed beside his wife. "But Sammy, you make _such _a cute two-year-old." He just couldn't stop himself from that one last little jab.

"That's it!" She growled, grabbing a pillow and swatting him in the head with it. "When I'm big again, no sex for a week!"

Eyes widening in alarm, several thoughts ran through Jack's head, and though it would be best to remain silent, there was no way he could prevent the next words that came out of his mouth. "That SO didn't sound right coming from a toddler." He cringed.

"AGHHH! JACK!!"

-The End-


	18. Just Not Right

**Summary: **Jack doesn't think it's very funny anymore.

**Timeframe: **Same as 'Little Miss Attitude'.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Humor

**Rating: **T (for a teeny bit of sex talk)

**A/N: **I just couldn't help myself. I hadta add another snippet with little Sam. Teehee! And because it's so addicting...there may be more later. Heh.

**Just Not Right**

"Jaaaaack," Sam whined, sounding more like how she looked than her actual age. "I was _supposed _to be back to normal today!" She couldn't help it, she pouted.

Jack couldn't hide the faint smile on his face. He knelt down to her level, ignoring the protest from his knees and gently putting a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, I know. But Daniel read the tablet wrong. This 'miniaturization' thing is supposed to last two _weeks_, not two _days_."

He helped her up onto the chair that was stacked with two phone books before settling in the seat next to her at the table. Popping the cap off his beer, Jack took a swig and then pushed a glass of juice toward Sam. "Hey, at least Fraiser let me take you home," he said, trying to cheer her up a little.

"I know." Sam heaved a loud, dramatic sigh, folding her arms over the table and putting her chin down, glaring at the juice in front of her. "But I want sex."

Jack choked and spit his beer across the table. "Sam!" he exclaimed, spluttering.

Her fair blonde brows furrowed. "What?" she asked innocently.

Composing himself, Jack got up and grabbed some paper towels, wiping the beer from his chin and the table. "I thought you said I wasn't getting sex for a week once you were big again," he shot back at her, though he decided a second too late that he shouldn't have reminded her.

Sam shrugged, and heaving another sigh said pitifully, "I can't hold out that long."

Jack smirked for a second smugly, then frowned and waggled a finger at her. "Okay, enough. No more sex talk when you're in the body of a two-year-old. It's just…too weird! And wrong!" he exclaimed, ranting now and pacing back and forth in front of the kitchen table. "SO wrong!"

Sam started laughing when he shuddered visibly, her depression because of her current state momentarily forgotten. An evil smirk came across her face. She could SO use this to her advantage.

-The End-

(for now)


	19. Itchy

**Summary: **Jack's got chicken pox.

**Timeframe: **Any.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Humor, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

**Rating: **G.

**Itchy**

"Jack! STOP SCRATCHING!" Sam yelled at her husband for the sixth time that morning. She tried scolding glares, taking away his PlayStation, and even threatening to call Daniel over to read him ancient texts, but nothing was stopping Jack from scratching at the irritating, itchy spots all over his body.

He looked over at her pathetically, and not-so-subtly rubbing his right elbow against the sofa's armrest. "But I'm ITCHY!" he whined, pouting at her through a pockmarked face.

Sam heaved a sigh and strode towards him, abandoning the dishes she'd been putting away. "I'm going to run you an oatmeal bath, okay?"

Jack's eyebrows went up. Oatmeal bath, huh? That didn't sound so bad. "Will it make me stop itching?"

"It should help," Sam assured him, flopping down on the couch briefly and snagging Jack's wrist as his hand strayed toward his knee, preparing to scratch. She got up again and pointed a finger at him. "Stay put. I'm going to start the bath." While walking away she could hear him squirming on the couch. "And NO ITCHING!"

Eyes widening, Jack went rigid, heaving a sigh and resignedly sitting on his hands to prevent himself from scratching.

When Sam came back down into the living room several minutes later, proclaiming that his bath was ready, Jack reluctantly dragged himself off the sofa and shuffled into the bathroom, shedding clothes on the way until he was only in his boxer shorts.

Standing in the bathroom, Jack stared down at the tub that was filled with lumpy-looking water. He made a face and looked at Sam with an odd expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked him in a gentle voice, seeing the funny look he was giving her.

"You want me to get in that?!" Jack spluttered, aghast.

She couldn't help the smile. "I know it looks gross, but you need to soak in it for a while to help stop the itching."

Jack grimaced, shuddering visibly before taking a deep breath, dropping his shorts, and lowering his pox-covered body into the warm water.

Sam found the disgusted look on his face almost comical.

"Yech," Jack grumbled as he sunk lower into the bath so that the oatmeal coated his chest and shoulders. "I feel like I'm bathing in someone else's vomit," he muttered, still making faces.

At that comment, Sam lost it. She laughed, shaking her head and handing Jack a wash cloth. "But I bet you're not itchy anymore, are you?"

Jack blinked and stilled in the water, thinking for a moment. "No. Guess not." He looked up and grinned at her.

Sam smiled. "Okay, good. Stay in there for a little while and I'll go get lunch ready."

-

After a lunch that consisted mainly of soup broth for Jack, Sam tried to keep him busy and not think about itching by handing him a book of crossword puzzles and a _MAD Magazine_. It didn't last long, however, before she caught him scratching at his spots again.

"Jaaaack," she growled lowly in warning, glaring over at him where he sat on the sofa, magazine in his lap.

He stopped itching his chest beneath the t-shirt he wore and frowned. "Why can't I just scratch them!?"

Sam sighed patiently, and as though speaking to a young child explained, "Because Janet says that you can get an infection that way, and I'm sure you don't want to be any worse."

Pouting, Jack threw his arms out at either side of him and heaved a frustrated sigh.

"I can't believe you've never had chicken pox as a child," Sam exclaimed, shaking her head.

Jack just shrugged and wiggled his back against the couch, grumbling under his breath.

Smiling sympathetically, Sam got up from the armchair where she'd been doing work on her laptop and walked over to him. Sinking down onto the cushion beside her husband, Sam reached out to touch his forehead. "How's your fever?"

"Fine," he grumbled, trying and failing to jerk his head out of her reach.

Sam shook her head, frowning a little. He was still warm. She got up again and went to the kitchen, returning a minute later with a glass of apple juice and some Tylenol. "Here, take these and try to sleep for a little bit."

With a sigh and reluctant nod, Jack took the pills and stretched out on the couch, closing his eyes.

-

Sam got a good hour of peace and quiet, and was able to finish her work before Jack woke up. She'd been in the kitchen when he dragged himself off the couch with a groan and shuffled off to the bathroom.

When he came out, looking for something to drink in the refrigerator, Sam pulled a beer bottle out of his hand and poured him a glass of juice. "No beer for you."

"Hrmph.." he grumped, sipping at the juice she gave him and shuffling off toward the living room.

Sam set down the coffee she'd been drinking and followed after him, sitting down on the couch at her husband's side when he flopped down and swung his feet up onto the coffee table.

"If I catch you scratching again, I can't be held responsible for what I may do," she warned, giving her husband a sharp look.

Jack shot wide, innocent eyes at her, but said nothing and turned his attention to the tv.

Ten minutes later he started itching his side when he thought Sam wasn't looking, and soon discovered how dangerous it could be to disobey her.

Jack had oven mitts duct-taped to his hands by the time Daniel and Janet came for a visit later that afternoon.

Daniel took one look at Jack and started laughing, while Janet at least _tried _to contain her amusement. The Colonel looked like a pouting little boy.

Sam shrugged when her friends' questioning gazes flitted her way. "I warned him if he didn't stop scratching…" she trailed off, a smug smile on her face.

-The End-


	20. Booboo

**Summary: **Kids say the darnedest things.

**Timeframe: **AU, other

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SamJack, Original Character

**Genre: **Humor

**Rating: **PG

**Boo-boo**

Recently hand-washed pans sat glistening on the countertop, droplets of water slowly sliding down the clean stainless steel. Washing her hands with a more gentle soap than that used on the dishes, Sam reached for a dish towel and cocked her head when she heard childish giggling, followed by a muffled yelp and a thump.

Turning from the sink as small footsteps trampled loudly on the tiled floor seconds later, Sam raised her eyebrows at the angelic face peering up at her, big brown eyes practically hidden behind curls of blonde. "Hey sweetie, what was that noise? Did you wake Daddy from his nap?" she asked the child in a soft, knowing voice.

"Uh-huh." The little cherub nodded, her face soon scrunching up into an unreadable expression. "I jumped on Daddy and he got hurted."

Sam's brows furrowed suddenly with worry. "Jack?" she called, dropping the dish towel in her hands and swiftly striding to the living room.

The concerned child followed quickly behind her mommy.

Finding Jack on the floor by the couch, doubled over in pain, Sam hurried over to him. "Maddie," she started, turning around to look at the little girl now sitting innocently on the sofa. "How did you jump on Daddy?"

"Like this!" The pint-sized two-year-old climbed up on the back of the sofa, then hopped down onto the cushions on her knees.

Jack groaned from the floor, one hand over his face, the other clutched between his knees. It was hard to breathe, but he managed to speak in a practically gasping voice. "Bony little knees…landing in places they should never land.."

Crawling off the couch, Maddie tugged at her mother's shirt. "Mommy, what is 'family joo-wuhls?'" she asked innocently.

Sam swung her gaze to the child with surprise, one hand on her suffering husband's shoulder as she tried not to laugh. "Sweetie, where did you hear that?"

"When Daddy got hurted he said 'Oy, my family joo-wuhls!'," the little girl answered expressively.

Unable to prevent the burst of laughter this time, Sam had to put a hand over her mouth. She snorted and then looked down at her writhing husband sympathetically. "It's something only daddies have, sweetheart."

Jack lifted his head from the floor briefly, but said nothing.

"Oh." Maddie stuck her lower lip out thoughtfully, then pointed at her father on the floor. "I think I broked Daddy's."

Sam managed to muffle her laughter through her hand this time. She reached down to rub Jack's shoulder and then took him by the arm, tugging at him so that he was sitting up, leaning against the couch. There was a nauseas, pained look on his face that made Sam grimace. Maddie must have really gotten him good. She winced.

Jack let his head fall back, struggling to muffle his groans of pain in front of his daughter. Tears had leaked from the corners of his eyes and both hands were clutching at his groin.

"Want me to get you some ice or something?" Sam asked her husband helpfully, running a hand through his hair.

"No," Jack ground out as Sam got up from where she'd been kneeling next to him on the floor. "I'll be fine," he insisted, still grimacing.

When Sam turned around, Maddie reached out and tugged at her pant leg, a serious look on her round, angelic face. "Mommy."

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Aren't you gonna kiss Daddy's boo-boo better?"

-The End-


	21. Gone

**Disclaimer: **Any characters or themes related to SG-1 obviously do not belong to me.

**Summary: **There's so much blood. He doesn't see; he can't. But he can feel it.

**Timeframe: **AU, Any

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SamJack, Daniel, Teal'c, Janet

**Genre: **Drama, Angst, Tragedy (hanky warning!)

**Rating: **PG

**Gone**

He stands in shock, unseeing or breathing, unable to think or move; incapable of feeling anything other than deep, emotional pain, he stares into nothingness.

Hot, salty tears leak from his eyes. Eyes that don't see; cloudy and milky white for some time now.

She's gone. He doesn't want to believe. He can't believe, because believing would make it too real.

A hand touches his shoulder in attempt to comfort, but he isn't expecting it. He flinches, pulls back, startled.

"Jack."

The voice is familiar, soothing. A brother, though not by blood. It's Daniel.

He flashes back in time; three days ago.

There's so much blood. He doesn't see; he can't. But he can feel it. The hot, sticky substance coats his hands as he tries and fails to stop the blood flow, stem the bleeding. But he doesn't know where it's all coming from. There's too much.

He chokes out a sob, gasps her name. _"Sam." _His chin raises to the sky, unseeing eyes close, and he calls out to a higher being he hasn't had faith in in far too long. "Please." _Don't take her from me. _But he can't say it.

Jack jerks slightly, his whole body trembling as weak, nearly-lifeless fingers take hold of his bloodstained ones. The fingers draw his to her lips; cracked and probably pale.

He feels her lips moving, his ears straining to hear words that can't quite make it out.

_I love you. _

Her fingers fall away from his own; she's very still. He frantically leans over and presses his ear against her chest. He hears nothing; feels nothing.

She's gone.

Not caring that the side of his face is now covered in blood as he leans against her chest still, Jack sobs, angry and cursing. How could this happen?

On Earth. A parking lot. A speeding car. One mistake. One wrong step.

"Jack." Daniel pulls him back from the horrific memory. His voice is strained. He's hurting too.

Jack feels a silent presence near the archaeologist. Two, in fact. One stoically silent, the other sniffing back tears. He knows that smell, that silence. Teal'c and Janet. His family. _Her _family.

"Come on Jack, let's go home."

His hand reaches out gropingly. Calloused fingers graze the rough gravestone one last time. He turns, swipes at the tears on his face with the sleeve of his jacket.

Home.

No, without her it will never be home again.

-Fin-


	22. Daniel's Fault

**Summary: **It's all Daniel's fault.

**Timeframe: **Pre-'Little Miss Attitude' and 'Just Not Right'.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack, Daniel

**Genre: **Humor

**Rating: **G.

**Daniel's Fault**

Daniel inspected the ruins with his infamous anthropologist/archaeologist intensity. His fingers ghosted along script carved deeply into the dusty, half-crumbled stone walls, blue eyes staring with absolute focus through the lenses of his glasses.

He paused, his gaze shifting to a protruding shape in the midst of the carved text, it's dull green tone in contrast with the pale tan of the entire wall.

"Daniel," Jack growled impatiently, coming up behind the archaeologist with Sam standing beside him.

"Hold on, I think I may have found something." His fingers started to touch along the odd green shape sticking out of the ruins.

When the shape started to pulse with a faint, barely noticeable glow, Sam called out, startled, "Daniel! Don't-"

"-TOUCH ANYTHING!" Jack's voice hollered at the same time.

"What?" Daniel pushed away from the wall, accidently pushing the green shape further into the ruins.

Suddenly, with horror, Jack realized that Sam was standing on a particular spot in the floor that matched the shape and color of the protrusion in the wall, only it was bigger. And it was glowing. "Carter!"

It was too late.

A bright flash of light shot up from the floor, engulfing Sam entirely. Daniel and Jack had to look away, lest they be blinded by the overpowering glow.

Ten seconds later the light disappeared, and Jack's eyes quickly shot toward the spot where Sam had been, praying she'd be okay. "Sam?!"

There sat an extremely short, blonde-haired, blue-eyed little girl, engulfed in heavy, oversized clothing. She blinked up at the two men, looked down at herself, and squeaked. "Oh crap."

Jack spun, directing a scathing look at the still-stunned archaeologist. "DANIEL!!"

-The End-

**Note: **There ya go. An explanation as to how Sam got shrunk, as requested by _**rebeccavoyicon**_ and _**ducaineforever**_.


	23. From the Mouths of Babes

**Summary: **While babysitting Maddie, the little girl makes a comment about adult games.

**Timeframe: **Same as "Boo-boo."

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SamJack, Maddie, Daniel, Teal'c

**Genre: **Humor

**Rating: **PG

**From the Mouths of Babes**

"Jack! You ready yet? We're gonna be late!" Sam shouted from the living room.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm tryin'!" he muttered from the bedroom.

Sam looked over at Daniel apologetically. He was on the floor with Maddie, playing with some building blocks. "Daniel, would you keep an eye on her for a minute? I've got to go help Jack."

Daniel smiled back at her with a reassuring nod. He reached for a yellow-colored block as Maddie grabbed a blue one. "I think I can handle it."

-

Sam pulled open the bedroom door and leaned against the frame.

Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed, the pants he'd been trying to put on dangling off one foot. The plaster cast on his right leg went up to his thigh, and he couldn't quite bend enough to get his pants on.

Trying hard not to laugh at her husband's predicament, Sam went over to him. He'd somehow managed to get his shorts on, but the pants were a new challenge altogether.

Jack heaved a sigh as Sam took hold of his pants and got his left leg in. The right pant leg had been cut off and the fringed end rolled up slightly because of his cast. "Why do we have to go out to eat anyway?" he moaned.

Sam smiled patiently at him as she slid his right leg into the hole cut in his khakis. She then helped him stand and lean on his crutches while she pulled them up over his hips. "Because my brother's in town for just a few days to see Dad while he's actually on Earth, and we promised we'd have dinner with them all."

Grunting, Jack sat back down while Sam went to grab his shirt, muttering about why they couldn't just eat at home.

-

When Teal'c came out of the kitchen with a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches and some drinks, Daniel got up from the floor. As he noticed Maddie climbing to her feet and tottering toward the steps, he called after her. "Maddie, where are you going?"

The two-year-old paused and turned to look at her uncle with doe-like brown eyes. "Tell mommy and daddy it time to eat."

Teal'c handed Daniel a cup of coffee and sat down, setting the sandwiches on the coffee table.

Daniel tried to wave the little girl back over. "Your mommy and daddy are busy right now sweetheart. Why don't you just come on over here and eat."

"O'tay." Maddie turned, her blonde curls bouncing as she pattered back over to Daniel and Teal'c.

Teal'c picked the little girl up and sat her on the couch between himself and Daniel. He started to cut her grilled cheese up into bite-sized pieces.

Maddie looked innocently over at Daniel, kicking her feet against the edge of the sofa. Her little brows were furrowed inquisitively, lower lip sticking out as it often did when she was thinking. "Is Mommy and Daddy pwaying gym-nak-sticks?"

Daniel coughed in mid-sip of his coffee, spraying it across the coffee table. "What?" he choked out.

The two-year-old continued kicking her feet against the sofa as she waited for her Uncle Teal'c to finish cutting up her food. "Daddy says when he and Mommy pway gym-nak-sticks I'm not a'posed to go in. It's only for big peoples."

Grabbing for a napkin on the coffee table, Daniel cleaned himself off, holding in desperate bursts of laughter.

Teal'c rose an eyebrow and set the child's paper plate in her lap. "Madelyn O'Neill, I believe you are referring to-"

"Teal'c!" Daniel cut the Jaffa off, vehemently shaking his head. "No."

Just then Sam and Jack came into the room. Sam was walking slowly alongside her husband as he hobbled in on his crutches.

"I look ridiculous," Jack muttered, stopping at the top of the steps and staring at his plastered leg and cut-off pants.

Sam just smiled and tucked an errant lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "You look fine."

Clearing his throat loudly, Daniel smiled cheekily at the pair and simply said, "Gymnastics?"

Sam's face immediately flushed crimson while a lazy grin spread across Jack's face and he shrugged.

-The End-


	24. Innocent

**Summary: **Sam has some concerns.

**Timeframe: **Same as 'Little Miss Attitude' and 'Just Not Right'.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Drama, Angst

**Rating: **G

**Innocent**

Jack was confused.

After spending the past three days being tortured by the most disturbing sexual references coming from a two-year-old's mouth, Sam was finally leaving him alone.

He was worried, starting to suspect that she was up to something. But all those thoughts fled from his mind when she came to him that evening, an almost teary-eyed look on her round, angelic little face.

Jack blinked at her curiously and put down the towels he'd been folding. "Done working on your laptop already?" he asked with a small smile. Even a pint-sized Sam couldn't stay away from work completely for too long.

Sam didn't answer. She hung by the doorway at the top of the steps to the lounge, practically clinging to the wooden frame.

Brows furrowed now with concern, Jack got up from the couch and strode toward her. "Sam, what's wrong?" he asked in a soft, caring voice. He knelt down to her level, ignoring the sharp protest from his knees.

"I'm scared Jack," she practically whimpered, lower lip trembling.

"C'mere." He pulled her tiny form into his arms and held her against his chest.

Sam wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, stuffing her face in the crook of his shoulder and sniffling.

Standing with Sam in his arms, Jack went to the couch and sat down with her still clinging to him. When she finally let go, he settled her gently on the cushion beside him and got up to put away the towels he'd half-finished folding.

Sam looked up at Jack as he came back to the couch a minute later. She had her knees pulled to her chest, little arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Knowing she'd been an absolute terror for the past few days, Sam decided Jack deserved her to be acting a little more normal, as normal as a grown woman in a child's body could be.

Not quite knowing what to say, Jack turned on the TV and sat back down on the couch. When Sam cuddled up to his side, he wrapped an arm around her and rubbed his thumb against her shoulder.

"I love you Sam," Jack murmured softly. "And no matter what happens, I'm going to stand by you."

Sam sniffed and snuggled closer into his side. "Promise?"

Jack smiled and leaned sideways, craning his neck so he could kiss the top of her head. "Do you have to ask?"

She smiled.

-

That night Jack lay in bed with Sam sleeping soundly and comfortably on his chest, her head resting just under his chin. He briefly imagined the child asleep on him was not his wife-turned-into-child, but was indeed their child, and the thought gave him a deeply warm feeling. He could easily imagine he and Sam having a child together, and hoped that it would be a possibility sometime soon. However, he felt a slight pang at the slim chance that Sam may not ever return to normal.

As Sam squirmed on his chest, her little head bumping into his chin and making his teeth click together, Jack managed a smile and craned his neck to gently kiss the soft blonde hair tickling him.

"We'll be okay, my angel," he murmured softly into her hair.

She mumbled something unintelligible into Jack's chest and curled a tiny hand into his t-shirt.

Jack sighed and stroked her hair. "I hope so."

-The End-


	25. Let Go

**Summary: **Sam's not ready to let go.

**Timeframe: **Future

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Drama, Family

**Rating: **G.

**Let Go**

"Sam, you have to let him go."

She wasn't ready to hear those words. Not yet. It was too soon. She knelt down, holding him with tears making her blue eyes bright and glossy. Sam shook her head, squeezing him to her.

"Sam, honey, he's ready."

She looked up, the tears streaking down her face. "But I'm not." The hand on her shoulder was soothing and encouraging, no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

The sudden ringing of a bell jolted her. Her heartbeat sped up. She still wasn't ready.

"Mommy, you're squishing me."

Jack chuckled and patted the little boy on the head before bending down to kiss his wife's cheek. "C'mon Sam, he's gonna be late."

Taking in a shaky breath, Sam nodded reluctantly and stood, pulling Jack back up with her as his notoriously bad knees protested. She quickly swiped at her tears and smiled before bending quickly one more time and giving her little boy a kiss on the cheek. "Have a good first day at school Shawny."

The little boy grinned, his blue eyes twinkling with a child's innocence. "Bye Mommy! Bye Daddy! Love you!"

Jack wrapped his arms around his wife's waist from behind as they watched their son enter the school for his first day of kindergarten. He rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered gently, "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

-The End-


	26. Nightingale

**Summary: **Jack is visited by his own angel while lying sick on the bathroom floor.

**Timeframe: **Any.

**Characters/Pairings: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **General, Drama

**Rating: **G

**Word Count: **100

**Nightingale**

Gritty eyes blink against the absence of white while the cold tiles press into the warm skin of his cheek.

The sound of his own breathing whistles in his ears, heartbeat pulsing in tune with a throbbing head.

Sweat trickles down the back of his neck, soaking slowly into the collar of his shirt.

There's a soft rasp of fabric as he tries to move, but ultimately realizes it's not worth the effort.

The cold, hard floor is welcoming to hot skin.

His eyes close; he breathes in and out.

The door opens and he sees her, flooded in light.

-End-


	27. Cornered

**Summary: **In the middle of battle, Sam finds herself cornered.

**Timeframe: **Any.

**Characters/Pairings: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **General

**Rating: **G

**Cornered**

The surrounding scenery is mysterious and scarily quiet; the only sounds she hears is the pulsing heat of her heart, blood rushing in her ears, and the short, shallow whisper of her breathing.

A twig snaps to her left. She flinches and ducks down low, scrambling for cover behind a fallen over, rotted tree. The grip of the gun in her hand is slippery with perspiration, her hands sweating.

There's sudden silence again and she tenses, ears twitching, straining for the faintest warning that someone is moving closer.

The rustle of the leaves has her scrambling out from cover and searching for another place to hide. There's two sturdy boulders ten yards away, leaning against each other and creating a small crevice to hide in. It's perfect. All she has to do is get there without being seen.

The sounds of someone rapidly closing in on her position grow closer. She panics. She's out in the open now; she needs to move. Go!

Dashing madly toward the shelter of the rocks that now seem ridiculously far away, she trips on the root of a tree and plummets to the ground, landing in an ungainly heap amidst a pile of dirt and dead leaves.

Her heart is pounding in her chest. Fingers flex to grip a gun that is no longer there.

That's it. She's done for.

The trampling footsteps crushing the ground are nearly upon her. She rolls to her back and opens wide blue eyes, accepting defeat.

The tall, shadowed figure is hovering over her now. The muzzle of a gun is aimed at her face. She flinches as a finger jerks against the trigger.

"Got'cha."

She screams as an icy cold spray hits her face. "Goddammit Jack! That's cold!"

He's standing over her, grinning shamelessly, pointing the water gun in the air. "Hey, you're the one that wanted to start a water fight."

She growls. "Help me up."

-End-

**Author's Request: **I really need some prompts guys. A word, phrase, situation; anything! Please, if you've got any ideas, let me know. I'll take 'em! :) Thanks!


	28. Sam's Gift

**Summary: **Sam's infirmary-bound on Halloween.

**Timeframe: **Same as "Boo-Boo" and "From the Mouths of Babes."

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack, Maddie, Janet

**Genre: **General, Family

**Rating: **G.

**Prompt: **_Write a fic/drabble/anything using these three objects: pumpkins, a goldfish, a can of spray paint_

**Sam's Gift**

Adjusting her position in the uncomfortable infirmary bed, Sam leaned back into her pillows and heaved a sigh. She was not a happy camper. It was Halloween and she was stuck on base.

She and Jack were supposed to be taking Maddie out trick-or-treating, and she wasn't going to be able to join them for the first time in her daughter's young life.

Hearing the door to the infirmary open, Sam forced a smile when Jack walked in with their two-year-old on his hip and a plastic bag in his free hand. She rose a confused eyebrow at her husband when he got closer and she realized the bag in his hand was filled with water, and there was a goldfish swimming around in there.

"Um, hi you two," she greeted, shifting the arm in a sling carefully.

"Hey sweetheart," Jack grinned at her, setting Maddie down on the bed gingerly before leaning over to give Sam a kiss. "How you feeling?"

"Okay I guess." Sam smiled tightly, not wanting either of them to see the disappointment on her face.

"Mommy we broughted you a present!" Maddie exclaimed, pointing at the goldfish in the bag Jack was still holding.

Sam couldn't help it, she laughed. "A goldfish, huh?" Her eyes left her daughter for a moment to drift to her husband.

Jack shrugged and grinned crookedly.

"Yep!" The little girl's brown eyes gleamed and her wide smile lit up her face. "He's here to keep you comp'ny when Daddy take me twik-oh-tweating."

"That's very thoughtful of you, sweetie." Sam couldn't hide her regretful expression though. "I wish I could go with you guys."

"There'll be other Halloweens, Sam," Jack reassured her, squeezing her good hand.

"I know."

Jack held up the goldfish. "I'd better get this little guy in a better container." He patted Maddie on the head as she babbled to her mother, telling a story of some sort in which, due to the two-year-old's limited vocabulary, wasn't entirely translatable. "Be right back."

-

When he'd gone home with Maddie to do some last-minute preparing for Halloween, Jack truly realized how much his wife was missing out on. He knew she wasn't happy, especially since this was only their daughter's second Halloween. Sam hated missing things like that.

Handing Maddie her juice, Jack sat down at the table and smiled at her, suddenly getting an idea. "Hey Mads, what do ya say we bring Halloween to Mommy at the base?"

The two-year-old tipped her head and then smiled excitedly. "O'tay!"

"Sweet." Jack grinned, then got up and quickly went to work, Maddie hopping down off her chair and following to help him.

-

"Hey Sam, I brought you something," Janet walked into the infirmary with a cheerful smile as she strode up to her friend's bed. She held a small decorative bag in her hand, with a picture of a ghost on it.

Sam took the bag from Janet's outstretched hand and smiled somewhat somberly, setting the goody bag on her lap and peering inside. It was filled with assorted candies. "Thanks Janet, but it's not the same."

"I know," her friend smiled apologetically. "Just trying to cheer you up. I know you'd rather be out trick-or-treating with Maddie and Jack.

Sighing, Sam nodded slowly and glanced forlornly at the goldfish her daughter had brought her. When she heard childish giggling a second later, her chin jerked up and she stared at the door to the infirmary expectantly.

Jack and Maddie walked in, both wearing costumes.

Sam couldn't help but laugh.

Maddie was wearing a lion costume, while Jack was dressed up as a scarecrow, with the floppy hat and straw coming out of his sleeves and everything. Maddie dragged a little red wagon behind her, filled with Jack-o-lanterns and painted pumpkins.

"Mommy, we bringed Hah-wo-ween to you!" Maddie squealed happily.

Sam was beaming, her eyes bright and teary with happiness.

Janet smiled widely and quietly snuck out of the room.

Jack walked up to his wife's bed while Maddie pulled something out of the wagon and brought it over, tugging at his shirt.

"Don't forget this Daddy!"

Turning, Jack grinned and took the items from his little girl, patting her on the head. He looked at his wife again with a boyish smile on his face and quickly plopped a pigtailed wig on her head. "This is for you, Dorothy."

Sam laughed again, then suddenly caught Jack's left hand. Jack's very purple left hand. Her eyebrows rose and she giggled. "What happened?"

Jack grimaced. "Ah… Maddie accidently spray painted Daddy while we were decorating the pumpkins." He shrugged, then lifted Maddie up and settled her on the bed.

Sam was laughing so much she had tears in her eyes. She gave her daughter a careful, one-armed hug and kissed her cheek. "You look adorable, sweetie."

"Doesn't she?" Jack grinned, moving around the bed so he could sit on Sam's other side. He leaned over and kissed his wife lovingly.

"Thank you for this."

"For you? Anything." He smirked.

Sam pulled Jack down for a kiss this time, and smiled against his lips when she heard Maddie giggling. "I love you."

He drew back slowly and winked with a lopsided grin. "Ditto."

-The End-


	29. Going Home

**Summary: **Sam helps Jack with some packing.

**Timeframe: **After season 9

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Fluff

**Rating: **G

**Prompt: **_DC, apartment, unexpected surprises _

**Going Home**

Jack shoves a full box across the expanse of hardwood floor and winces as it goes a little too far and hits the doorframe. He turns back to his packing and stacks a few more boxes, ready for transport.

He's always hated having a desk job; hated the amount of responsibility that went with it. He liked that he was able to keep tabs on the SGC, but couldn't stand that he was so far away. Jack was ready to settle down, spend more time with his wife, in the same state. The long-distance relationship was taking a toll on both of them.

He was more than ready to hand over the reins of Head of Homeworld Security to some other shmuck. Jack was done.

Sam comes out of the apartment's small kitchen and places a box on top of the pile labeled 'kitchen stuff.' She sneaks up behind Jack and winds her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his back, between his shoulder blades.

"Hm," Jack hums contently and lightly grasps the hands going around his waist, taking a break from his packing.

She kisses the back of his neck and smiles, happy that he's finally coming home to her. "Glad to be going home?" Sam asks, though she already knows he is.

"Oh yeah," he sighs.

Sam had moved into his old house in the Springs once they'd decided to live together there because it was larger than her home. She'd always loved his house and the quiet neighborhood it resided in, though she'd added her own simple feminine touch to the manly decor.

Turning in her embrace, Jack hugs her to him and tips his head so his lips brush against the side of her neck as he squeezes her. "I've missed you Sam," he murmurs while dipping his chin so he can kiss her collarbone.

"Mmm, me too." Her hands caress his back lovingly and she nips at his ear.

Jack chuckles and reluctantly pulls away, his hands still on either side of her waist. "As much as I'd LOVE for this to continue…" He sighs regrettably, shoulders sagging briefly as his hands fall away from her waist. "I really want to get this packing done so we can go home and continue," he takes a second to glance around the nearly-empty apartment, "where there's an actual bed."

Sam snorts and nods her agreement. "You're right. Let's get this done."

-

Fifteen minutes later, they're done with the packing, and have started taking boxes out to the rented U-Haul parked outside.

Most of the smaller boxes are gone, and there's only two big ones remaining. Luckily the apartment had been refurbished and Jack didn't have to worry about taking any furniture with him.

Jack picks up one of the bigger boxes and heads to the door, glancing back at Sam. "That last box is kinda heavy, you mind givin' me a hand after I take this one down?" he asks, jerking his chin in the direction of the remaining box.

Sam hesitates, then closes her eyes for a second and purses her lips as though she was making a difficult decision. "I don't think I can Jack. I probably shouldn't be doing any heavy lifting."

He looks at her curiously, then slowly sets his box down on the floor while his expression shifts to concern. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt on your last mission? You never said anything." Jack takes a few steps closer to her.

Breathing shakily, she smiles tightly and slowly shakes her head. Her feet take the next few steps towards her husband so she's standing directly in front of him. He's looking deeply into her eyes now for any sort of clue when she gently takes his hands and holds them at waist level.

"Sam? What is it?" His chest is rising and falling quicker now as his heart speeds up. He's really getting worried.

A warm, reassuring smile spreads across Sam's face as her blue eyes look deeply into his never-ending brown ones. "Jack, honey, I'm pregnant."

His mouth gapes open in shock, eyebrows going up and down like Charlie Chaplin. "Ah..but…we… How?" he finally splutters, her hands still holding his between them. "We haven't… I… I've been in Washington!"

Sam laughs, smiling widely, her eyes watering. She strokes his hands with her thumbs. "Remember three weeks ago? My little surprise visit to your office?" She sees realization dawning slowly in his eyes. "We came back here on your lunch break…"

He breathes out. "Ohhh…." Then he quirks a grin. It starts out on his right side, then the left cheek pulls back to match. His eyes get glassy. _"We're gonna have a baby," _he whispers.

"Uh-huh." Sam nods, her smile matches his own.

"WE'RE GONNA HAVE A BABY!!" he shouts as he wraps his arms tightly around her and rocks her from side to side.

"Yeah," she repeats against him, her voice muffled against his shoulder as she laughs. "We're gonna have a baby."

-The End-


	30. Oops

**Summary: **A drunk Jack is not a wise Jack.

**Timeframe: **

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack UST, Daniel, Teal'c

**Genre: **Humor

**Rating: **PG (for brief cussin')

**Oops**

Daniel put down his last beer as Teal'c practically dragged him out the door. He glanced back at his two friends still sitting on Jack's couch, a drunken glaze in his eyes. His focus swung back toward the now-open door and he blinked as the Jaffa stopped in the doorway and quit dragging him by the arm.

"O'Neill," Teal'c's voice boomed. "I believe your vehicle is blocking Daniel Jackson's."

"Huh?" Jack's chin jerked up, then he scratched his head and blinked drunkenly at Carter, giving her a sideways glance. He didn't really want to get up. He liked her company. This team night the two of them had been particularly cozy with each other, and he shamelessly admitted to himself that he rather enjoyed it.

She laughed and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "Teal'c needs you to move your truck sir."

He threw his head back and his eyebrows lifted as though he had a great revelation. "Ohhh." Jack made an effort to lever himself off the comfortable couch, but nearly fell back against the cushions again until Carter gave his butt a shove. He smirked to himself and glanced back with a drunken wink. "Thanks Carter."

Sam smiled and winked back at him. "Yasureyoubet'cha." She wasn't quite as drunk as Jack or Daniel, but she was feeling quite fuzzy and warm nonetheless. It was pleasant, and she was much more comfortable and casual around her CO because of it. She didn't mind that at all.

Jack snatched his keys off the table by the door, then stumbled out to the driveway past Daniel and Teal'c. He got in his truck and started it up, then blinked fuzzily at his rearview mirror. Shifting into reverse, Jack let his foot off the break a little too quickly and cringed at the sudden jolt and typical sound of metal against metal when his bumper plowed into something.

Slamming on the breaks and muttering under his breath, Jack carefully made sure to put the truck in park before turning off the engine and nearly falling out the door. He looked toward his front steps to see Daniel and Teal'c staring at him with shock on their faces; something very odd and disconcerting to find on the normally-stoic Jaffa.

"What?!"

Wondering what he'd hit, when the two didn't answer him, Jack shuffled to the rear of his truck and stopped dead in his tracks, feeling suddenly very sober and sick to his stomach. Lying in the driveway half under his truck was Carter's beloved vintage Indian motorcycle. His jaw dropped and he muttered a single expletive, throwing a hand over his face. "Shit."

About a second later, Sam was in the doorway, having probably heard the crash.

Jack gulped as he peered at her between his fingers and cringed.

"COLONEL O'NEILL!!!"

-The End-

**Prompt: **Jack accidentally backs his pickup into Sam's beloved motorcycle.


	31. Shades of Winter

**Summary: **Sam and Jack celebrate the cold.

**Timeframe: **Any.

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Drabble, Fluff

**Rating: **G

**Prompt: **_Snowflake._

**Word Count: **100

**Shades of Winter**

She smiles.

He smirks.

She places her palms on either sides of his face.

He puts his hands on her waist.

She tugs his watch cap down to his eyebrows.

He flicks a finger gently at her cold-reddened nose.

She puts her hands on his shoulders and leans forward.

He presses his lips against hers.

She kisses him back, her hand moving to the nape of his neck.

His arms tighten around her waist; he buries his face into the side of her neck.

She breathes deep, laughs.

He looks up.

She looks up.

Snowflakes.


	32. A Mother's Work

**Summary: **Sam's daily struggles as a wife, mother, and part-time astrophysicist.

**Timeframe: **AU

**Characters/Pairings: **Established Sam/Jack, Other Character

**Genre: **General, Drama, Family

**Rating: **PG

**Start Date: **10-27-08 **Finish Date: **12-30-08

**A Mother's Work**

Today was Sam's lab work day. That meant she got to spend some quality time with her partially-neglected 'doohickeys', alone in her lab, with no pesky science colleagues bothering her or getting in her way. Teal'c and Daniel were currently babysitting little Shawny, and Jack was… Wait a minute, where was Jack?

When she thought about it for a minute, Sam realized she hadn't seen him since they arrived at the mountain early that morning. It was nearly five in the evening now. That was strange. Unless he was off-world, Jack usually popped by several times to bother Sam while she was working.

Allowing herself a break to get a snack (blue Jell-O?), check up on her son, and find her husband, Sam set her experiments aside and wandered down the hall towards the recreation room on the same level. That's where Daniel and Teal'c had last been seen with Shawny.

As she walked into the rec room, Shawny immediately toddled over to her with an enthusiastic "Mama!", his Mommy-radar always seeming to alert him to her presence.

"Hello my sweet boy," she greeted her son cheerfully, kneeling down and brushing back his fair brown hair. Sam pulled him into her arms, propping the two-year-old on her right hip and looking over his uncles. "Has he been good?"

"Of course," Daniel told her sincerely. As far as he was concerned, Shawny was the most well-behaved, quiet and easy-going toddler he had ever met. "We played with Building Blocks and watched a Bob the Builder video after his post-dinner nap."

Teal'c even smiled. "Shawn O'Neill was most pleased with his animal crackers as an evening snack as well."

Sam giggled softly and kissed her son soundly on the cheek multiple times, causing him to squeal briefly with laughter. "I'm almost done with my lab work. Just taking a short break. Do you guys mind keeping an eye on him just a bit longer?"

"It would be our pleasure, Major Doctor O'Neill." Teal'c bowed his head slightly, hands clasped behind his back and a minute smile spreading across his face.

Daniel nodded in response and held out his arms as Sam handed her son back over to him. The little boy cuddled into his arms quickly after a brief moment of reluctant separation from his mother.

On her way out the door again, Sam grasped the doorframe and looked back at Teal'c and Daniel. "Hey guys, have you seen Jack around? He hasn't stopped to bother me all day."

Daniel didn't look surprised. "I heard General Hammond warning him about lots of overdue paperwork and mission reports. He's been bogged down in his office all day."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "Wow, did he manage to find it okay? Maybe he got lost on the way there," she joked, getting a laugh from Daniel and a concerned look from Teal'c. "I'm joking," she clarified for the Jaffa. "I'm fairly certain he knows where his office is."

Without giving Teal'c a moment to process the information, Sam left, waving goodbye to her son.

-

Opening the door to Jack's office, Sam stuck her head inside and nearly laughed out loud when she saw her husband slumped at the desk with his head in his arms, breathing deeply in sleep. Shaking her head, Sam stepped inside the room and quietly closed the door behind her.

As she got closer, Sam noticed that he was lying on several sheets of paperwork spread all over the desk. Unable to hide her giggles this time, Sam reached out and gently jostled Jack's arm.

"Jack." He didn't budge. She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Jack," she said, laughing, "Wake up."

This time he groaned, but still didn't bother getting up. _Wow_, she thought, _He must have really been working on this stuff all day_.

Figuring a better tactic was in order, Sam used her best command voice and barked, "Colonel O'Neill!"

Jack's head shot up in a flash and he sat at attention, a Post-It note stuck to his left cheek. "I'm almost finished with your reports sir," he muttered, voice raspy with sleep and eyes shifting blearily until he managed to focus on his wife. "Sam." Jack rubbed his hands over his face, dislodging the Post-It and mumbling, "What time is it?"

"About seventeen-hundred." Sam answered, studying her husband with a surprising amount of scrutiny. She suddenly noticed his eyes were red and bloodshot with dark circles underneath, and he looked rather pale. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Sure." Jack sent her a crooked grin, leaning back in his desk chair sluggishly. He scratched the back of his head and heaved a sigh. "This paperwork is killing me though."

Sam smiled briefly with understanding. She hated paperwork as much as he did, but instead of procrastinating until General Hammond ordered her to do it, she liked to get it over with as soon as possible. "Jack, why don't you pick up Shawny and go home. I'll be done in a couple hours."

He sighed. "Can't, I gotta finish this. Almost there."

Blinking at the amount of papers all over his desk, Sam snorted skeptically. "Right."

When Jack leaned his head back for a moment and closed his eyes, Sam swiftly went around his desk and pressed her hand to his forehead. She frowned when he pulled away and rose an eyebrow at her. "Babe, you've got a fever."

"I'm okay," Jack insisted.

Sam gave him a look. It was probably just the bad cold that had been going around, but she knew how much he hated being sick. He was in denial. "Jack, go home."

He started to protest. "Sam, Hammond's gonna have my ass if this stuff's not sitting in his in-box by tomorrow morning."

She wasn't going for it. Firmly shaking her head, Sam planted her hands on her hips. Her protective wife/mother side came forward as she firmly said, "You're sick, he'll understand."

Not quite ready to give in, Jack mustered up one more argument. "What about Shawny? I don't want him getting sick. Maybe I should just stay here tonight."

Sam knew just how to dissuade him from that idea. "Shawny will be fine, he already had a cold so I think he'll be okay as long as you don't get too close to him. He can come home with me. And if you plan on staying here tonight, I'll just give Janet a call and you can spend the night in the infirmary."

He glared, narrowed his eyes, and frowned, but gave no further argument. "Fine," he grumped, dragging himself to his feet. "I'll go home."

"Good." Sam smiled triumphantly and brushed back his hair before give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Have a hot shower, take some Tylenol, and get in bed. I'll heat you up some chicken broth when I get home, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." Jack sent his wife a tired, goofy grin and slinked out of the office, making sure to grab his truck keys on the way.

-

By seven o'clock, Shawny was asleep on the bed in her quarters while Sam finished looking over her lab results on her laptop. She was hopeful that he wouldn't wake as she carried him out to the car. His track record was pretty good in that respect, and Sam didn't think she'd have any problems.

Quickly and quietly shutting down her computer and putting all her work away, Sam gathered her sleeping son into her arms carefully, then locked the room and left. Shawny immediately adjusted to his new position without waking, curling into her and resting his head on her shoulder with a thumb stuck in his mouth.

Shawny was still sucking on his thumb and drooling in his car seat when Sam pulled into the driveway. She drew him in her arms without waking him, and quietly went into the house.

Only a few lights had been left on as Sam navigated her way into Shawny's bedroom. He woke briefly as she changed him into his airplane pajamas and put him to bed, but quickly went back to sleep after she gave him a kiss on the forehead and handed him his favorite stuffed bear to cuddle with. Whispering goodnight and turning on the night-light, Sam left her son's room and headed into the kitchen to put some broth on the stove before checking on Jack.

Her husband's loud, congested snoring reminded Sam of an electric can opener as she opened the door to their bedroom and silently crossed the room to the bed. Jack was buried under a pile of blankets, the can opener noises muffled beneath all those covers. Sam smiled and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. She reached out to the bear-like lump and patted it softly in the middle where she assumed either his back, shoulder, or chest was, depending how he was lying down. "Jack? Honey?"

The can opener shut off and the bear wiggled slightly.

Shaking her head, Sam bent over him and peeled back layers of blankets until she found his bristly silver-topped head. Kissing the top of his head affectionately, she whispered, "I want you to get up and drink some chicken broth." She pulled more blankets away and he shivered. "Come on Jack."

"Mmmrrph…" Jack revealed an unfocused, bloodshot eye, then slowly opened the other one and reluctantly forced himself into a sitting position. He was like a zombie rising from the grave.

When Jack swung his legs over the side of the bed, Sam noticed that he was only wearing his boxers. She sighed. "Babe, you'd be a lot warmer if you put some clothes on."

He blinked at her, confused, then scratched the back of his head and looked down at himself as if just realizing that he wasn't dressed. "I was hot before," he mumbled, remembering. Then he got off the bed to lumber towards the dresser in search of clothes.

She rose an eyebrow and followed him. "So why were you just under a pile of blankets?"

Jack found some grey sweats and a black thermal shirt and got dressed before answering her. "Then I got cold and didn't feel like getting outta bed."

A smile spread across her face and she looked at him for a moment before turning and heading back to the kitchen. She turned off the burner that was heating Jack's promised chicken broth while making herself a cup of tea.

When Jack came out in his sweats, thermal, and a blue and brown flannel robe, Sam was pouring the broth into a large coffee mug. She handed it to him and then wrapped an arm around his waist, grabbing her own mug off the counter with her free hand.

"Couch?"

"Yeah." Jack nodded and allowed her to lead him down to the living room.

Snuggled together on the sofa, Sam took a sip of her tea and then leaned into Jack's shoulder. It was quiet, the only sounds were the soft slurping noises her husband made as he slowly drank the hot chicken broth, the warm mug cradled in his hands. Inhaling deeply, she could smell the soap on him, mingled with a scent that was purely Jack. She always loved the way he smelled, especially after he'd just taken a shower.

It took Sam by surprise when Jack started to pull away from her. She cocked her head and eyed him strangely. "What's the matter?"

"I don't want you to get sick," he said quietly. "I'll sleep on the couch."

Sam shook her head and looked at him, lightly grasping his wrist reassuringly. "Jack, I'll be fine. I hardly ever get sick, you know that. I think it has to do with the naquadah in my blood."

He just lifted his eyebrows and blinked at her. Right now he'd rather not have to listen to a long scientific explanation as to why the naquadah in his wife's blood protected her from easily contracting a cold. Jack sighed and just went with it. He leaned back into the sofa once more and continued to sip at his broth.

Within minutes Jack's mug was empty, sitting on the coffee table, and he was slumped into Sam's side, fast asleep as she played with his hair. It was nearly nine o'clock, and she was feeling tired, almost asleep herself.

Sam's eyes had just started to close when she heard Shawny's cry. Trying not to wake Jack, she wiggled away from him carefully and guided his upper body down onto the cushions so that he was lying down.

Leaving Jack asleep on the couch for the moment, Sam hurried into their son's bedroom.

Shawny sat up in bed, clutching his teddy bear close to his chest. There were tears in his round blue eyes.

Quickly crossing the room to get to her son, Sam sat beside him on the child-sized bed. Shawny immediately curled up against her and she put an arm around his small form. "Did you have a scary dream sweetie?"

Shawny nodded against her leg and mumbled, "I s'eep wif you an' Daddy?"

Sam stroked his silky hair soothingly. "No sweetie, not tonight. Daddy's sick."

Sniffling, the two-year-old let out a loud, shaky breath and squeezed his stuffed bear tighter. "Why?"

Smiling patiently, she rubbed her son's back. "Because he caught a cold."

Shawny tilted his head and blinked at her inquisitively, rubbing at his eyes. "How he does that?"

Knowing very well that if Sam got into a scientific explanation about how a person caught a cold it would put the two-year-old to sleep, she proceeded. "Well, you see honey, there are these things we call germs…"

Two minutes into her detailed response, Shawny was deeply asleep, thumb stuck in his mouth and teddy bear tucked under his chin. She tucked him back into bed with a kiss on his forehead and quietly left the room.

Finding Jack awake again, sitting on the couch and rubbing at the back of his neck, Sam went over to him and lightly put her hand on his shoulder. "Hey babe, you wanna get back in bed?"

Blinking at his wife drowsily, Jack gave a slow nod and then sluggishly rose to his feet with her help.

"Did you take some Tylenol when you got home like I told you?"

He tilted his head sideways and quirked a smile. "Yes ma'am."

Sam shook her head and gave Jack's backside a gentle swat. "Keep it in line Airman."

He shot her a smirk and continued on to their bedroom. Still feeling pretty lousy, Jack hated how eager he was to get back in bed and just sleep. God, he was exhausted. And he still felt like crap. His head ached and dammit, he was hot again.

Sam had left his side to turn off all the lights in the house and lock the doors. Jack was sprawled across the bed, staring at the ceiling when she came into the room, his robe and thermal shirt tossed to the floor.

Kneeling on the bed and reaching toward him, Sam touched Jack's forehead. He was still pretty feverish. She didn't even need to get the thermometer to check. Leaving him again, she went into their adjoined bathroom and came back shortly with a wet washcloth. "Hot?" she asked, already knowing the answer. He obviously didn't have his shirt off because he had the chills at the moment.

"Mm-hm." Jack nodded tiredly, throwing his forearm across his eyes and breathing harshly.

Sam folded the damp cloth and gingerly placed it over his forehead. She got off the bed one last time to change into her nightclothes, then turned off the lights and crawled under the covers that her husband was lying on top of.

She was only asleep for an hour when her husband's movements roused her. The mattress bounced and sagged a few times before she felt his weight leave it completely. Opening her eyes and blinking, Sam groggily propped herself up on an elbow. "Jack? Babe, what are you doing?" It was too dark to see, but she could hear him moving around the room.

Jack was swiping his foot along the floor, trying to find where he'd left his shirt. A bone-deep shiver shook him suddenly and his teeth chattered. "I'm cold and I can't find my damn shirt," he mumbled, sounding half-asleep.

Sam smiled slightly and pulled the covers back on the other side of the bed. "It's okay Jack, just come back to bed. I'll keep you warm," she promised, missing his warmth herself.

Heaving a sigh and breathing as deeply as he could through a blocked nose, Jack complied slowly and crawled beneath the blankets that he found his wife to be holding open for him. He laid on his back and felt her crawl into his side.

Jack relaxed as her body heat slowly warmed him. He felt her go limp against him, her breathing evening out as she fell asleep. He closed his eyes and slowly followed her.

-

Sam got up fairly early the next morning and carefully crept out of bed, trying hard not to disturb her slumbering, and loudly snoring, husband. The blanket was pushed down to his waist, and since he didn't appear to be cold, she didn't cover him back up, not wanting to make him uncomfortable if he was hot.

For a moment she briefly considered checking his temperature, but decided against it. She didn't want to chance waking him up if she stuck a thermometer in his ear or even if she pressed her hand against his forehead.

Going down the hall to their son's room, Sam peered inside to find Shawny still deeply asleep. He normally woke early, so she figured he would be awake soon. She just hoped he wasn't going to run into their bedroom and wake Daddy up.

In the kitchen, Sam put a pot of coffee on right away and started to make breakfast. She decided that today was a scrambled eggs and toast day; something quick, simple, and easy on Jack's stomach.

By the time the eggs were all done and the last of the toast had popped in the toaster, Shawny was awake. She quickly took him to his training potty, then got the two-year-old settled in his highchair next to the table.

"Is Daddy come eat wif us?" Shawny asked innocently when Sam clicked the tray table on his highchair in place and put his plastic dish in front of him.

She smiled lovingly at her son and smoothed back his soft hair. "No, sweetie. Daddy has to stay in bed and eat because he's still sick."

Shawny tilted his head and seemed to consider that for a moment, then stuck a finger in his scrambled eggs as he said, "Ohhh."

After getting a tray ready for Jack, Sam bent over her son, kissing his cheek and telling him she was bringing food to Daddy and he was to finish his breakfast.

While she was walking into the bedroom, carefully carrying the breakfast tray, Jack was slowly making his way out of the bathroom and shuffling back toward the bed. Sam smiled warmly at him as he settled back in bed comfortably, sitting up against the headboard with pillows at his back. "Morning." She carefully laid the tray over his lap and sat next to him. "Feel any better?"

Jack blinked drowsily down at the tray as if just noticing it, then rubbed his head with one hand and nodded with a raspy, "A little, yeah."

Sam reached out to touch his forehead when he took a sip of his juice, and decided he was still warm. "You still have a fever." She bent forward to kiss his slightly-stubbly cheek and brushed back his damp hair.

Shrugging, Jack picked apart his toast and then quirked a wry smile. "You made me breakfast in bed," he said with a hint of amusement in his tone, voice still hoarse.

She nodded, smiling at him. "Yep. You owe me."

Chuckling softly, Jack looked at his wife affectionately. "I love you Sam."

"Love you too." She leaned forward to kiss him again, then winced as a scream from Shawny made her jerk back. Sam sighed as their son began crying out for her.

"You better go," Jack told her softly.

Sam sighed, then nodded with a smile as she got off the bed. Sauntering to the door, she turned and tilted her head, looking back at her husband. "I guess it's true what they say."

"What's that?" he asked, a piece of toast half way to his mouth.

She smiled and shrugged. "A mother's work is never done."

-The End-


	33. Down

**Summary: **Sam falls in the midst of a battle.

**Timeframe: **Any.

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Drabble, Drama

**Rating: **G

**Word Count: **100

**Down**

He watched her go down in a cloud of dust and debris.

Booted feet pounded across the battlefield as he slid to his knees at her side.

She coughed from the dust; her eyelids fluttered, flecks of dirt flicking off her long, elegant lashes. "Colonel?"

His hands were in her hair, holding her head gingerly, her golden tresses tinged with battle grime.

Jack felt his heart begin beating again. He swiped his baseball cap off and bent down, kissing her forehead and grinning. "Don't do that to me again."

She managed a smile. "Yes sir."


	34. Ten Again

**Summary: **After an off-world mishap, Sam deals with a grown Jack having the mind of a ten-year-old; literally.

**Timeframe: **Any, Slight-AU

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ

**Genre: **Humor

**Rating: **PG13

**Ten Again**

Sam put down her spoon and pushed the remainder of her blue Jell-O aside to look up at Jack. He was standing next to the table and fidgeting, his hands pulling at the bottom of his shirt as he shifted from foot to foot.

"Jack, sit down."

He shook his head at her. "I can't."

Sam sighed and looked around. Some of the Airmen having lunch were staring at them now. "Why not?"

He made a face, but kept dancing around. "I gotta pee," he stage-whispered.

Oh brother. Sam smiled to herself and pushed her chair back, standing and snagging his sleeve. "Come on, I'll take you to the bathroom." She realized he hadn't gone to the bathroom in the four hours since SG-1's return, and was wondering how long he'd been holding it.

After leading her husband to the bathroom, Sam shoved him through the door lightly and leaned on the wall outside in the corridor.

"HOLY CRAP!"

The astonished shout made her jerk away from the wall. Sam's brows furrowed slightly and she nudged the door open a crack. "Something the matter, Jack?"

"No!" came the hasty squeak from inside. "Nothing!"

Sam scratched her head for a second, puzzled, then her eyes widened and she caught herself smirking.

Oh.

She supposed a ten-year-old in a grown man's body wouldn't exactly be expecting THAT when he went to the bathroom. Well, at least not quite on that scale.

As Jack emerged from the men's room, wiping freshly-washed hands on his BDU pants, Sam desperately fought the urge not to laugh. "Everything go okay in there?"

The forty-something Air Force Colonel's cheeks flushed. "Yeah, fine," he mumbled, pulling a blue yo-yo out of his pocket and skittering down the hall.

Sam squeezed her eyes shut, giggling softly and shaking her head as she followed after him. This was going to be a long, interesting couple of days.

-


	35. Motherly

**Summary: **Sam gives Jack a special brand of 'motherly' love.

**Timeframe: **Before and after 'Ten Again.'

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ

**Genre: **Humor, General

**Rating: **G

**Motherly**

_Sam knew that Jack could act like a child at the best of times, but this was just ridiculous. She watched him emerge from the gate, poking Daniel repeatedly in the arm and making faces at him for nearly five minutes before Teal'c briefly explained to her what had happened. _

_Pulling Daniel aside after the briefing, while Jack was occupied by Janet's tests in the infirmary, Sam narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms before speaking. "He thinks he's TEN?!" she exclaimed. _

_Grimacing sheepishly, Daniel gave a helpless shrug. "How was I supposed to know that NOT touching something would have that kind of effect?"_

_Sam heaved a sigh and glared harder. Her eyes were like cold blue steel. _

"_The elders said it wears off," Daniel tried, a tentative smile on his face. _

"_Ugh." Shaking her head, Sam rolled her eyes and stormed away. "I'd better go rescue Janet."_

"_If it makes you feel any better, when we showed him his reflection he screamed and kicked me in the shin!" She heard Daniel call after her. "And it still hurts!"_

-

So far, it hadn't been that difficult finding ways to keep him occupied. Sam had used the same things to distract Jack from bothering her when he was in his right mind; _The Simpsons_, PlayStation games, his yo-yo, _MAD Magazine_, a GameBoy, and crossword puzzles. It worked for a little while.

Around dinner time, Jack was complaining he was hungry, so Sam took him to the commissary, hoping that they could just get some food and head back to the VIP suite. Sam didn't want to spend any time awkwardly trying to socialize with anyone while Jack was blowing bubbles in his chocolate milk. Lunch had been bad enough, and she seriously doubted that any of the Airmen present would soon forget Colonel O'Neill's little 'I gotta pee' dance.

The entire base wasn't apprised of her husband's 'condition,' and Janet had suggested minimalizing his contact with anyone outside of herself, Hammond, and SG-1. So far Sam hadn't been very successful sticking to that plan, by no fault of her own.

"Can I have pizza, and mac n' cheese, and tuna, and chicken fingers, and chocolate cake?" Jack asked hopefully when they reached the food line.

Sam tried to ignore the look one of the marines in line was giving her and turned to Jack. "Are you really that hungry?"

"Yeah." He nodded, then looked down at himself and patted his stomach. "My stomach's gotta be grown up and big, so I can eat more now, right?"

She wasn't really able to argue with that logic, and actually found it quite amusing. "If you think you're going to eat all that, go ahead." She didn't really care what he ate, she just wanted to get the hell out of the commissary, and fast!

Jack was grinning as he collected the food onto his tray, grabbing a jug of milk at the end of the line and following Sam.

-

Much to Sam's surprise, Jack DID eat all the food he'd piled on his tray; and promptly threw it all up half an hour later.

"Alright Jack, I think it's time for you to get in the shower and get ready for bed." Sam said as she cleaned up the remains of her own dinner from the table in the VIP room.

"I don't want a bath!" Jack exclaimed loudly, hopping on the couch and turning on the TV.

Sam heaved an exasperated sigh. "Jack, you're a mess! You're taking a shower."

"No!" he protested, throwing a blanket over his head.

Striding toward her man-child determinedly, Sam snatched the blanket away from him and grabbed the collar of his t-shirt, dragging him off the couch. "You stink of vomit, and you've got chocolate frosting all over you; now get in the bathroom." When he blinked at her with that innocent, childish look, Sam steeled her resolve and used her best commanding tone. "You've got thirty seconds to get in that bathroom, Johnathan J. O'Neill."

He pulled out of Sam's grasp, then scrambled off the couch and made an awkward, clumsy dash to the en suite, nearly tripping over his own feet as he went. He may not have remembered who his mother was in his current state, but he sure knew a mother's tone when he heard it.

Sam followed after him, reaching into the shower to turn on the water, making sure the temperature was satisfactory before retreating back into the main room when Jack tried to 'shoo' her away, obviously not wanting to undress while she was there. Sam found it quite amusing, and was nearly tempted to tell Jack that she was his wife, just to see his reaction.

When she'd finished cleaning up the room and laying out some of Jack's pajamas that she'd brought from home, Sam left to get some ginger ale from the commissary to help settle his stomach in case he was still feeling queasy. She asked an SF out in the corridor to keep an eye on the room in case Jack was finished with his shower before Sam got back.

-

Jack was still in the bathroom when Sam returned, but she didn't hear the water running. Curious, she crept up to the door and listened, hearing Jack talking to himself and grunting, saying things like, "Cool," "Whoa," and "Rrr!"

Wondering what her ten-year-old husband was doing in there, Sam carefully pushed the door open half an inch. She nearly laughed out loud when she peered inside and saw Jack's reflection in the mirror. His skin and hair were both damp and steaming from his recent shower, and he was flexing his arms and making faces in the mirror.

Sam was forced to put a hand over her mouth to smother her laughter, and she absently wondered if this was what her husband normally did when he got out of the shower and she wasn't around.

She wished she had a camera.

When Jack continued his body-builder posing and managed to flex his pecs one at a time, Sam thought, God, this is too much!

Pushing the door open all the way, Sam found it very difficult not to laugh. "Jack, what are you doing?"

His eyebrows popped up and he let out a very undignified squeak of surprise. Jack nearly jumped out of his boxer shorts in shock, scrambling to hide his underwear from view with less-than adequately-sized hands. "SAM!" he squeaked again.

She just rolled her eyes, giggling softly and suppressing the urge to tell him she'd seen him in his underwear before. Less, actually, but she wouldn't go there either.

Cheeks flaming red in embarrassment, Jack ran past Sam and hurried toward the bed where he must have seen the clothes she put there. He dressed quickly and clumsily, glaring at Sam when she came over and sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing her arms with a smirk on her face.

"It's not funny," Jack muttered grumpily, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and stomping toward the couch.

Sam just kept smiling and giggling softly, shaking her head as she quietly said to herself, "Maybe not to you." She couldn't wait to tell Jack about his exploits when he was back to being himself again.

-


	36. Breaking Down

**Summary: **A terrible accident leaves Jack paralyzed, and terrified of what his and Sam's future will hold.

**Timeframe: **Any, AU.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ.

**Genre: **Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort

**Rating: **T

**Breaking Down**

Sam went to his aid silently, brushing back the sweaty strands of grey over his forehead, already crouching at the end of the bed, removing his soiled clothes. Is this what he'd become? Jack wondered. The crippled old soldier that pissed himself in the night because he couldn't get to the bathroom and could barely control his bladder?

This wasn't the kind of married life Jack imagined or wanted. This wasn't what he wanted for Sam. He loved her, and if loving her meant letting her go to allow her to really live, then he would do it. Hell, he'd tried to do it. She just wouldn't go. She wouldn't let _him _go. She wouldn't let him give up. He loved her even more for that.

Jack felt useless and ashamed as she undressed him, wrapped his lower half in a towel, and helped him into his chair. He couldn't speak to her. She just changed the sheets, pushed him to the bathroom, cleaned him up, then put him back in bed. He felt like an infant.

When she laid against his side, her hand on his chest, Jack cursed the sharp sting of tears in his eyes. They ran down the side of his face and soaked into his pillow. He could tell she knew he was crying, and hated the show of weakness.

Her gentle fingers flexed against the cotton of his t-shirt, and he gritted his teeth against the empty feeling in his gut, because he couldn't feel her legs against his own.

Jack cursed that one stray bullet, the nightmares, and himself. He clenched his fists, revelling in the ability to be in control of some part of his body. When Sam's hand encountered his left fist and she forcibly threaded her fingers between the resisting digits, he inhaled sharply and turned his head away. She clutched at his hand desperately, and as she kissed his neck, he could feel her tears dripping onto his skin.

In the morning he was stiff, tired, and sweating. He moved his head around, searching for Sam, and panicked when he didn't see her. Jack's heart was beating fifty times per second, threatening to burst from his chest. He felt sick. He couldn't escape the awful feeling of sheer hysteria that filled his very being. She was gone. She was gone.

"Jack?" Sam appeared in the doorway a moment later.

By then he was gasping for breath, clutching the sheets like he was squeezing the life out of them, and sweating profusely. He was so relieved to see her in the midst of his anxiety, that he threw up all over the place.

It became like a routine. She helped him up, removed his clothes, got him into the chair and pushed him to the bathroom to clean him up. This time she got him on the bench in the shower and left to change the sheets again.

She never said a word, but Jack could see the fear and concern in her eyes, the defeat in her posture. He looked up at the spraying water washing over him and briefly wondered if it was possible for him to drown in the shower. Trying to reach for the soap, he lost his balance and fell off the bench to land noisily on the shower floor. He whacked his head on the wall and lay there dazed, a tangled, slippery heap of arms and legs.

He hadn't tried to move when Sam found him and cried out in alarm. "Jack!" She quickly turned off the water and manipulated his legs, pulling his body up so that he was sitting slumped against the shower wall. Kneeling in the water with no regard for her now-wet clothing, she pulled his upper body against her, pressing his head to her chest. "I'm sorry, Jack. God, I'm so sorry."

He could hear her sobbing, but was too ashamed of his own misery and weakness to really do anything about it.

After resting her cheek on his damp head and crying for several minutes, clutching his naked, wet body to her, Sam got him up and into his chair. She dried him off, then wrapped him up in a towel and pushed him back into the bedroom.

Jack felt like a useless husk. He moved his upper body to help her as much as he could, but he was a marionette with half it's strings cut, his legs dangling free without any function.

Sam clothed him with great care, buttoning up his pants to make him presentable, trying to get him to put on his own shirt when she knew he could. "Jack, please," she begged, her voice still sounding tearful.

His dark eyes were dull as he lay there, not even trying to sit up. Jack had to wonder why she bothered anymore. He thought about pushing her away again, telling her to get lost and saying he didn't love her anymore, just to make her leave. He just couldn't bear the thought of her leaving him. It was bad enough being useless. He didn't want to be useless and alone. It shook him to his very core, and he started breathing in sharp, shallow breaths, panicking at the very thoughts of her abandoning him.

She sat next to him on the bed, her hands covering her face. In a desperate attempt to let her know he still cared, still wanted her around, Jack reached out and grasped at her arm, feebly. "Please. Don't leave me."

He hadn't been talking much, if at all, and she had to have been surprised at the sound of his voice and the hand on her arm. Sam pulled both hands from her face, her bright, teary blue eyes gazing at him with so many emotions he couldn't decipher them all.

When he pushed himself to sit up, Sam flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly, burying her wet, tear-stained face in the side of his neck. "God, Jack. I'm not going to leave you. Ever," she sobbed into his skin. She pulled back suddenly and grasped his face between her warm hands, staring him directly in the eyes. "But don't you give up on me, Jack. Don't you dare!"

His breathing slowed and the panic gradually ebbed away. He ran a shaky hand through her hair and briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he flashed a small, determined smile and nodded. Jack was certain that his new path in life wouldn't be easy, and he was scared, but as long as Sam was there with him, he wouldn't give up.

-The End-


	37. Love and Chocolate Chip Cookies

**Summary: **Sam loves Jack for his cookies.

**Timeframe: **Any.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ.

**Genre: **Fluff

**Rating: **G

**Note: **I figured I owed you guys some fluff after the angst-fest last post. ;)

**Love and Chocolate Chip Cookies**

Jack was still stuck on base finishing up requisition forms for their next mission when Sam used her key to enter his house and raid the fridge.

After pulling out a bottle of Guinness, Sam went to his pantry. A smile graced her face as she opened the door and peered inside. She loved how even when his cupboards were otherwise devoid of food, there was always a bag of chocolate chip cookies for her. Taking the bag of cookies and her beer, she made a beeline for the couch. She'd finished off half a sleeve of chocolate chip cookies and her entire beer before she fell asleep.

Sam woke to the sound of the front door closing as Jack walked in. She watched him hang up his coat and smiled as he slumped into the couch beside her, not at all surprised to see her there. His hand brushed hers as he snagged the bag of cookies off her lap.

He pulled out the half-eaten sleeve that she didn't finish off and waved them at her. "I tagged these onto the end of the requisition form," he said seriously.

She laughed sleepily and stole her dangling cookies out of his hand. "I will love you forever and ever if you really did."

Jack's eyebrows rose briefly in contemplation and he made to get up, waving toward the door. "Hang on, I'll be right back," he joked with mock-seriousness, rising from the couch until she pulled him back down.

Sam snuggled up against him, hugging his arm and burying her smiling face into his shoulder. "You really think I only love you because you always keep cookies in the house for me?"

He cocked an eyebrow ala Teal'c and craned his neck to look down at her. "Sometimes, yes."

Laughing, Sam shook her head and playfully poked Jack in the ribs, causing him to squirm. She reached into her bag of chocolate chippy goodness and took a bite before shoving the rest of it in his mouth.

With his voice muffled by cookies, Jack mumbled, "I ruv oo too."

-The End-


	38. Handle with Care

**Summary: **Jack's not feeling so hot after being discharged from the infirmary.

**Timeframe: **Post "Message in a Bottle."

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Hurt/Comfort

**Rating: **G.

**Handle with Care**

He wakes up with his face pressed into the carpet and a pitiful ache in his left shoulder that he rightly knows shouldn't be there. It's just a phantom pain, he tells himself.

Jack tries to push himself upright, but fails miserably and flops back down with a muffled curse. His eyes close, and when he opens them again, she's standing there in the doorway to his bedroom, looking down at him. It's Carter.

He tries to speak, but he can't. She tells him he's very sick and she needs to get him back in bed, that Janet is on her way. Jack doesn't remember Carter coming over.

Wait. Yes, he does. She took him home when he was released from the infirmary. Janet had wanted to run a bunch of tests after the alien thing left him, but he'd been fine. No damage.

Or so they'd all thought, apparently.

He feels a cool hand on his sweaty back. Carter's kneeling beside him.

The hand moves to the back of his neck, and she's asking him to try and help her sit him up. He thinks he doesn't need her help, but he does. It feels like an effort just to keep his eyes open.

"W'nna stay h're…" he mutters groggily, too wrung out to speak and think properly.

She says that he ought to get up unless he wants to spend the rest of the night on the floor, but he doesn't mind. He tells her he's comfortable, even though he's far from it. Jack tells her he'll get up if she leaves, but he doesn't mean it. He says he'll be just fine without her, but he doesn't mean that either. He knows he doesn't want her to go.

She manages to get him back in bed and covered with a light sheet. When she places a damp cloth on his forehead and gently bathes his face, Jack thinks that it's okay with him if she takes care of him any time he's sick.

He isn't sure if he's said that out loud or not, but when his eyes open again, she's smiling at him, and her hand is slowly raking through his sweat-dampened hair. "You're going to be okay, sir."

He believes her.

-


	39. Morphine

**Summary: **Sam appreciates Jack's company while she's recovering from her concussion.

**Timeframe: **Post "Grace."

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Hurt/Comfort

**Rating:**G.

**Note: **Somewhat of a companion piece to "Handle with Care."

**Morphine**

His face hovers in and out of her field of vision. She's groggy and her head is spinning, but she knows just who has been sitting by her bed for who knows how long. Ever since she's been back, she supposes.

It's Jack. Colonel O'Neill.

_God_, she thinks, _I have __**got**__ to get my head back on straight._

Sam keeps drifting, but remembers talking to him when she woke up the first time. She knows she's been in and out of consciousness; she just can't seem to stay awake. It's the concussion and the drugs. She knows that.

Her eyes remain open for longer than a few seconds, and she turns on her side, watching him. He smiles and spins around in the desk chair he's perched on.

_Ohh…_ she thinks with a moan. _If he keeps this up I'm going to puke. _Morphine and concussion, she reminds herself.

Sam notices that the Colonel stops suddenly when he realizes the motion is making her sick. She wonders if she'd said the words aloud.

She opens her eyes again, suddenly realizing she'd closed them. She doesn't know how long she's slept this time, but it's apparent to Sam that some time has passed. The Colonel's still here, but he's slumped in the chair with his arms crossed and his head bowed. He's fast asleep, and there's a new water pitcher beside her bed that wasn't there before.

She thinks it's endearing how adorable he looks sitting so loyally at her bedside, and a smile cracks across her tired face. She's still groggy and her eyes are threatening to close again. She fights it, but a yawn escapes.

Colonel O'Neill wakes up, unfolding his arms and rubbing at his tired brown eyes. He grins at her and asks if she needs anything.

"Nope," she murmurs dreamily, giving in to her drooping eyelids, "Just you." Sam's certain she said that out loud, but she's too tired to care.

She hears him chuckle, then feels a gentle hand tuck an errant stray of hair behind her ear before settling atop her own. "I'm not goin' anywhere," he rumbles lowly.

She believes him.

-


	40. If Things Had Been Different

**Summary: **In Carter's lab, Jack and Sam's conversation takes a different turn.

**Timeframe: **During "Affinity."

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Angst, UST

**Rating: **G.

**If Things Had Been Different**

_"What about you? If things had been different?"_

That was a loaded question, Jack thought, hesitating. If things had been different… Different how? There were so many possibilities. What exactly did she mean? The question was so vague; his answer could be even more so.

If he said that he wouldn't be here, would she know what he meant? Would she know that he meant he'd be with her, that he'd retire for her if he had to? That he'd rather not be a General, rather be watching her six off-world, rather be with her, even if it meant one or both of them would have to transfer?

As he gazed longingly at Sam's face, studying her, he noticed she looked as though she were about to immediately back peddle for self preservation purposes. Jack knew he was taking way too long to answer. He couldn't let her back out, so he just blurted the words out, images of that ring, and who had given it to her blurring across his vision.

Jack pointed at the ring box, and in a surprisingly emotional, husky voice said, "That would be from me."

Oh God. Had he really said that? His gut twisted, and for at least three seconds, he couldn't look her in the eyes.

When he was finally unable to resist seeing her reaction, Jack looked up to find Sam gaping at him in shock, her mouth literally hanging open. Forcing back the bile rising in his throat, Jack clenched his teeth and started to turn away, letting his hands drag back slowly from the lab table.

As a warm, smooth hand suddenly gripped his, Jack stopped his movement and turned back, raising an eyebrow hesitantly. The look in Carter's eyes told him so much more than any words could, and he was slightly surprised when she actually spoke.

Her gaze dropped from his, and in a sad, soft voice she whispered, "I know."

-


	41. You Know How I Do

**Summary: **Jack hurts himself doing something stupid and brings on the wrath of Angry Sam.

**Timeframe: **Firemanverse, AU

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ.

**Genre: **Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Gen

**Rating:**G.

**You Know How I Do**

Damn. His shoulder damn well hurt, and just . . . Damn.

Jack cursed under his breath for the fifth time that morning. He hadn't been this sore yesterday, dammit! He'd been trying to hide just how much he ached, but right now, sitting on the edge of the bed in a pair of boxer briefs, with only one arm in the sleeve of his shirt, and his head somewhere in the middle, it was looking damn near impossible. And he was sure he looked pretty pathetic too. Any minute now, Sam would walk into the bedroom, see his predicament, and -

"Jack? What is taking you so long? Why . . ." she stopped talking, and Jack poked his head out from under the hem of his t-shirt. "What are you doing?"

Carefully lowering the one arm that was dangling awkwardly in the air above his head, Jack knew he was about to fail miserably in convincing her that everything was hunky-damn-dory. "Um . . . Getting dressed?" he pitched, aiming for goofy obviousness, but hitting the mark somewhere around false innocence.

Sam placed her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Ah, yeah. And you've been at it for almost an hour now. What gives?" She glanced down at the floor, then on the bed behind him.

Avoiding the question, he asked, "What're you looking for?"

"A GameBoy, MAD magazine, the remote to the TV, your yo-yo. Any one of those things that would normally distract you from getting dressed."

He snorted, sticking out his lower lip and frowning. "What do think I am? Twelve years old?"

Sam sent him a teasing smirk. "Sometimes."

"Hrmph." Jack rolled his eyes. He could play this game. Hey, at least it was taking his mind off his shoulder. Maybe he could distract Sam from noticing what was really wrong, too. "What's so important that we hafta be at the station on our Saturday off anyways?"

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Because we promised we'd help the guys move everything into the new bunk room, remember?"

Jack groaned, just then realizing that Sam was wearing her bummy clothes; a pair of sweatpants, a paint-stained t-shirt, and old sneakers. Moving furniture, eh? Oh, his shoulder was SO not going to like that. "Ah, no, I don't remember that."

Shaking her head, Sam turned on her heel and headed back for the bedroom door. "Get dressed, Jack! If you're not out there by the time I'm finished with my coffee, I'm dragging you to the fire station in your underwear!"

His eyes widened marginally. Jack had no doubts that she really would, too. Damn. Wait a second; he could do this. All he needed was a shirt that he could easily get into. Something with buttons would do! Sweet! Maybe he wasn't so screwed after all.

-

Jack strode into the kitchen five minutes later, wearing a pair of old jeans and a worn, button-down baseball jersey, with his left arm dropped at his side as though his shoulder wasn't killing him. Sam was perched on the counter, coffee mug in hand, waiting for him. "Alright, let's do this," he said, taking a breath and looking around for his shoes.

Sam was reaching for her keys by the time Jack had slipped his feet into a pair of old work boots. She was following him to the door until he reached for the handle. "Okay, enough!" she exclaimed, exasperated.

Puzzled, Jack spun around to face her, confusion drawing his brows together. "What?" he asked innocently, hoping against hope that he hadn't been made.

Her eyes narrowed, and he knew he was in trouble. "The jig is up, Jack." Sam's arms crossed over her chest slowly.

"Jig? But I can't even dance," he quipped.

Ignoring him, Sam said, "Kawalsky called this morning. He said you left your hockey stick in the back of his truck."

Clearing his throat, Jack grimaced, then worked up his best boyish grin that he knew his wife adored so much. "Ah, yeah . . . We had a little pick-up game last night."

"Okay." Sam wasn't upset about hockey, he knew. Every Wednesday night he played street hockey with the guys from the fire station. But last night wasn't Wednesday, and judging by the look in her eyes, the adorable little boy look wasn't working right now. "Oh, and Charlie also told me that the college guys you played with want a rematch."

Oh. Crap. He made a face, but had nothing to say. "Uh . . ."

"College guys, Jack!?" She was frowning, now. That wasn't good. "The University of Colorado hockey team?!" Sam was practically glaring at this point.

He grimaced, smiling sheepishly and shrugging, which caused him to wince involuntarily in pain. Ack! Damn shoulder.

"You guys are twice their age! What were you thinking?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she waved a hand toward him. "And what the hell is wrong with you? You've been acting stiff all morning."

Okay, yeah; the jig was most definitely up. Looking down at his feet like a little kid that was getting an earful from his mom, Jack dug his toe into the wooden floor and mumbled, "I, uh, I kinda fell wrong . . . on my shoulder."

Sam heaved another exasperated sigh. She stepped closer to him and he nearly flinched at the anger radiating from her. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and surprised him with a gentle, caring voice that betrayed her true concern and relief. "At least it wasn't your knee again." As she reached out and began unbuttoning his shirt, Jack didn't dare make a move, or even throw out a sly comment about her undressing him. Now was definitely NOT the time for that. Sam peeled the fabric back from his left shoulder, the one he was holding stiff and awkwardly.

Jack knew his shoulder wasn't bruised, he'd been sure to check that out earlier, but it was a little swollen. He grimaced slightly as she probed around his aching joint.

"Hopefully it's just a sprain," Sam said, dropping her hand away for a second before smacking him across his uninjured arm and glaring again. Oh no. Angry Sam was back.

"Hey! What was that for?" Jack cried indignantly, sticking out his lower lip.

"You could've been seriously hurt, you big oaf!" She spun on her heel and stormed toward the kitchen.

Thinking it was best that he follow her, Jack trudged after his irate wife and slowly took a seat at the table as he watched her throw together a makeshift ice pack with a Ziploc bag, some ice, and a kitchen towel. He wisely kept his mouth shut as she handed it to him, and he put it on his throbbing shoulder.

He watched Sam grab for her keys again. "Let's get you to Janet's office."

Jack cocked his head and blinked, then chancing some backlash, he asked tentatively, "Uh, what about helping the guys at the fire house?"

She waved a hand dismissively, and winked at him, grinning devilishly. "Oh, that was a lie. They don't need our help. I was just seeing how fast I could get you to confess you'd been hurt."

Jack's draw dropped open as she turned and sauntered out of the kitchen. He got up slowly, shaking his head and grinning. Damn, his wife sure knew how to play him. "You little devil!"

-The End-


	42. Absence Makes the Heart Ache

**Summary: **Sam's in Atlantis and missing her Jack.

**Timeframe: **Sam's in Atlantis.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ

**Genre: **G.

**Rating: **Angst

**Absence Makes the Heart Ache**

Sam never expected having a long distance, galaxies apart, relationship would be easy. She never thought she'd miss the way he almost always left the toilet seat up in the middle of night, the infuriating way he washed colors with whites on laundry day, the two-day growth of prickly stubble on long weekends, the smell of Fruit Loops on his breath on Sunday mornings, or the way his new aftershave made her crinkle her nose.

She didn't expect to hurt so much without him.

Looking through her closet, Sam pulled out a box that was buried way in the back, covered with a few blankets and some extra pairs of shoes. She opened it slowly, tears pricking her eyes as a smile graced her lips. Reaching into the box, Sam lightly caressed the soft, worn material of the uniform within. Taking out the familiar blue BDU shirt, she brought the material to her face and inhaled the comforting scent that still lingered on the fabric.

Slipping her arms through the sleeves, Sam closed her eyes and tried to imagine Jack's arms wound around her, holding her close to his chest with his nose in her hair. She reverently touched the careworn patches, thinking of him, of the times he'd worn the uniform, the times they spent together, on and off-world. She thought of him visiting her lab, lunches in the commissary, late night vigils watching over one of their teammates in the infirmary, and the nights she'd actually find him in his office before a deadline, scrambling to complete the latest mission reports.

Sam curled up on her bed, wearing Jack's shirt, and convincing herself that the distance would only make their love stronger. She wouldn't let him go; not now, not ever. It still didn't make the empty feeling in her gut go away. God, she missed him. What was that cliché? _Absence makes the heart grow fonder. _Yeah, that's the one. But absence also makes the heart ache.

-The End-


	43. Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone

**Summary: **Jack thinks of Sam while she's in Atlantis.

**Timeframe: **In conjunction with "Absence Makes the Heart Ache."

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ.

**Genre: **Angst.

**Rating: **G.

**Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone**

She was a whole galaxy a way from him; a _galaxy_, for cryin' out loud! There was no calling every day to check up on her, ask how her day was, tell her he loved her at the end of the call. Jack supposed that's what made the distance between them even more palpable. God, he missed her. He missed all her faults, her flaws - and God, yes - she was a genius, and just perfect in his eyes, but she had them. Everyone did. He even missed all the little things that bothered him without even realizing it until she was gone.

Sometimes Jack thought he could hear her in the middle of the night, but then he'd call out to her and no one would be there. He missed that. He missed hearing her get up in the night, when she stumbled around the dark and banged into things, cursing and almost always waking him up. He missed the way her cold feet would rub against his legs when she crawled back in bed, how she almost always left the milk out far too long in the mornings after having her coffee, that particular look she gave him when she was annoyed with something he'd done, and the way she just HAD to fold his socks, and arrange them in rows of three in the drawer. Something to do with prime numbers, he remembered her saying.

While he was back in good ole' Colorado for some meetings at the SGC, Jack felt both closer to Sam, and farther away. At least he wasn't in DC. God, he hated it there. He hated flying a desk and dealing with all the bureaucrats. He hated being away from his family; everyone he cared about. And he hated that nothing over there reminded him of Sam.

Despite being back in familiar territory tonight, Jack couldn't sleep. Not alone. Not in his big empty house. So he turned off all the lights, locked the doors and windows, left his house in his pajamas and went to hers. When it was finally time for him to retire, and Sam returned from Atlantis for good, they both planned on buying a house together. Not hers, or his, but theirs. Jack just hoped it wouldn't be too late for them to expand upon their family, and settle down without having to save the world every other week. It was all he wanted now.

Using his key, he let himself in, but didn't bother with any of the lights. He could navigate her house in the dark after being spun around in circles fifty times; he just knew it that well. Dropping his keys on the table by the door, he aimed for the bedroom and flopped down tiredly on the mattress. Somehow, Sam's house seemed less empty and big. It was cozy, and it reminded him of her. It smelled like her smells and reflected her tastes.

Jack kicked off his shoes and heaved a sigh as he curled up on the bed, lazily burrowing under the covers and sending half the pillows astray. Snagging Sam's favorite pillow, one of those foam things that conformed to the shape of your head, Jack squeezed it to him and inhaled her lingering scent as though he could make her appear by continuing to breathe her in.

He was dreaming of alarms going off during some emergency at the SGC when the phone ringing in reality actually roused him. Those that knew Sam well enough knew that she wasn't home, hadn't been for some time. That meant it was probably someone looking for _him_, and there were only a handful of folks who knew about his relationship with Sam. It had to be Daniel.

Before he could fumble for the phone on the nightstand, the answer machine picked up, and Jack kept still as he listened.

_"Jack, it's Daniel. If you're there, pick up. I tried your house and your cell phone, so considering that it's four in the morning, I don't think you'd be anywhere else."_

Still unable to be bothered with answering, Jack rolled onto his back and continued to listen to the message, closing his eyes once more.

_"Call me if you get this, but . . . Jack, they want you in Atlantis. Something to do with the IOA. A week, starting tomorrow. I hope you get this message; say hi to Sam for me, and-"_

The machine cut Daniel off, but Jack had stopped listening at the mention of Atlantis. A grin split his face as he sat up. He was going to Atlantis. To _her. _

_Sam, here I come. _

-The End-


	44. Solidarity

**Summary: **Jack needs his family to remind him that he's not alone.

**Timeframe: **AU, any

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ

**Genre: **Drama, Angst, Family, Fluff

**Rating: **G.

**Solidarity**

He jerks himself awake in the dead of night, but doesn't know why. Jack rolls over onto his back and blinks, unseeing, up at the ceiling. It's dark, but he's expected that. It's been dark the last three nights he's woken. No matter the time or the place; it's always dark when you're blind.

_It's temporary, _his mind hisses. _Corneal flash burn. _That's what Fraiser called it. She's confident that his sight will return in a week or two. At least, that's what he hopes.

Jack turns on his side, but the mattress is cold no matter where he moves. The thought that he's alone frightens him. He sits up, on edge and breathing hard now. Panic surges in his gut; he feels himself trembling. He still doesn't know why he woke up. Maybe he subconsciously sensed that he was alone.

Finding the edge of the bed, Jack shoves away the blankets that are tangled with his limbs, and slides his legs over the side. He hears the click of the lightswitch and his head jerks up.

"Jack? Honey, are you alright? Did you need something?"

Not alone.

He remembers to breathe and nearly cries out in relief. She's here. He's not alone. How can he forget that she's here?

Her feet make soft, sweeping sounds against the wood floor, then the mattress sinks slightly with her weight. Jack feels her warmth as their legs touch. Her hand is in his hair, lightly stroking the back of his head before sliding to his neck.

"You're shaking." Her anxious voice whispers at his side.

Dammit, he's still trembling like a junkie aching for a fix. Jack inwardly curses his outward show of weakness. "I couldn't . . . I thought you . . . I thought I was alone," he blurts, this time unable to bury his desperation, to hide the obvious fact that he _needs _her. "Sam-"

Her hand rubs at his back; slow, soothing circles. "It's okay. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Uncomfortable, he pulls a hand through his hair and heaves an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. After a dragging silence, he dares to ask, "What time is it?"

"It's three-thirty in the morning, babe. I was just up to feed the twins," she tells him, softly, answering the question he can't bring himself to ask. _Where did you go? _

The twins. Of course. Their four-month-old twin boys normally woke about this time, hungry for their mother's milk. Jack nearly laughs at his irrational behavior upon waking. He hates being this needy and helpless. This is the first time he's been blinded by an injury, surprising considering the variety of grievances he's suffered in the line of duty, and he's finding it quite difficult to cope. Jack finds it humiliating how he requires help with absolutely _everything_, and frightening that he can't see his wife and children.

He figures he's been silent again for far too long, because the next thing he knows, Sam's hand is squeezing his upper arm, her soft voice asking with concern, "Jack, are you alright?"

Sucking in a hitched breath, he nods. She's rubbing his back again, and he realizes he's finally stopped shaking like a leaf. He brings up a hand to wearily scrub at his eyes, but his questing fingers are quickly, yet gingerly, slapped away.

"Don't rub your eyes," Sam warns in a tone far too reminiscent of Janet Fraiser.

Jack frowns. Now that the panic is buried once more, it's replaced with a feeling of frustration. He wants to go to his sons, to touch them, hold them, and know that they're there, that they're real, that _this _is real. But he can't get to the nursery on his own, no matter how well he thinks he knows the lay of the house, and he's too stubborn to ask for help. He's sure that he's had quite enough humiliation over the past few days.

She knows there's something wrong. He can tell by the way her hand settles between his shoulder blades, the subtle shift of her thigh against his own, and her slow, measured breaths. "What is it, Jack? Tell me."

He grits his teeth, aware that he's back to being irrational again, and more stubborn than he has a right to be. At least not with her. Jack knows there's no reason for him to feel humiliated with Sam. She's seen him through his best and his worst. And he knows things could certainly be worse. Blowing out a breath, he tilts his head in her direction. "Can you . . . can you take me to the boys?"

Her hand is squeezing his, now. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't have to. He feels the mattress shift as she stands, carefully pulling him upright with her. Hooking an arm through his, Sam leads him slowly out of the bedroom and to the boys' nursery.

Jack can still hear the soft, fading music from the mobiles above the boys' cribs. Sam always turns them on after she's fed the twins during the night. It helps them go back to sleep. "I don't wanna wake 'em up. I just . . . I just want to . . ."

He feels Sam lean away from him, and assumes she's checking the boys. Then she's guiding him to sit down in the rocking chair he knows is by the window. "It's okay, they're not back to sleep yet," she tells him, her voice soft and warm.

The light weight of a baby is being lowered into his arms, sinking slowly to his lap. He hears his son gurgle, feels the tiny bundle squirming to get comfortable, snuggling into his stomach.

"This is Cody," Sam says quietly, letting him know which twin he's holding.

Jack's face twitches into a faint smile. His wife's hand briefly touches his cheek, and he feels himself relax a little more. He begins rocking in the chair, slowly, his temporarily unseeing eyes closing as sleep begins to claw at him once more.

He's holding Chase, twenty minutes later, when the pulsing pain behind his eyes draws him from a half-dozing state. An involuntary grunt jerks from his throat as one hand reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Jack? Chase is asleep now; why don't you go back to bed." Sam's there, gently lifting the apparently-sleeping infant from his arms and probably settling the baby in his crib once more.

Jack's face scrunches in pain, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight when the pounding behind his eyes continues.

Sam grips his upper arm, helping to pull him to his feet. "Come on, Jack. You need to rest. I'll get you a few of those tablets that Janet sent you home with." Her arm snakes around his waist as she leads him back to their room.

Jack's calmed down a bit by the time they're back in the room and he's had his pills. The uncomfortable, pounding pulse behind his eyes is fading. He tries getting comfortable beneath the blankets, a slow grin spreading across his face as he feels the mattress sink slightly with Sam's weight. He rolls onto his back, tilting his head towards her as she shifts closer, snuggling up against his side and placing her hand on his stomach. He feels her thumb gently stroking back and forth over his t-shirt, and wraps an arm around her back.

"Feeling better, now?" she asks him tiredly, and he knows she's about ready to drop off to sleep herself.

He nods, breathing deeply and settling his hand over hers. "Yeah. Lots better." Holding his twin boys, and now holding Sam, reminds Jack that he's not alone. He knows he'll never be alone, no matter what. His family won't be leaving him any time soon, and he won't be leaving them, either, if he can help it.

Closing his eyes, with confidence that no matter what happens, things will turn out okay, Jack can easily go back to sleep.

-The End-


	45. Handled Carefully

**Summary: **Jack is well taken care of.

**Timeframe: **Following "Handle With Care." (Post "Message in a Bottle")

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack, Team, Janet

**Genre: **Hurt/Comfort

**Rating:**G.

**Handled Carefully**

He breathes slowly and closes his eyes, concentrating on the cool, wet cloth bathing his face.

He remembers Sam's voice, telling him he's going to be okay. He remembers Janet, too, making him drink some awful-tasting stuff and then sticking a needle in his hip. Jack even realizes he must still be pretty sick, because in his head he just called Carter, Sam.

The only thing that Jack really doesn't remember, is how he got to the SGC infirmary. And he knows that's where he is, because the antiseptic smell mixed with the distinct aroma of concrete is unmistakable.

"His body is still trying to expel the alien infection," he faintly hears Janet say.

"But I thought the organism restored him to full health?" That's Carter. He'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"It did, but his body must be picking up traces of the foreign entity. The fever is the Colonel's body's way of dealing with what it perceives as an infection."

That doesn't sound very pleasant, but explains why he still feels like crap.

"So what can we do to help him?" Carter's voice is troubled, and that worries him. Jack feels the cloth on his face again, the same time a muted groan reaches his ears.

"Easy now, sir." Janet makes him realize that the groan came from him, and he shifts slightly under the comforting hand he knows is Carter's. "All we can do is try to keep him cool and comfortable until the fever runs it's course."

A gentle, probing hand touches his left shoulder, high on his chest, just below the collarbone, and he flinches at the reminder of the sharp, constant agony.

Jack's eyes are still closed, but he is pretty aware now, and he can hear everything clearly. Doc Fraiser is moving around his bed now, probably fiddling with the stethoscope slung around her neck, and checking monitor wires, tubes, and fluids, as well as his vitals. Carter is suspiciously still. He can't hear her moving around, and he wonders what she's thinking.

"Janet, I think he's in pain." Carter's voice; an unsettled whisper.

"It's probably just remembered nerve pain, but I'll give him a little something anyway."

Jack is grateful for the relief when the warm rush of medication floods his veins. The piercing ache subsides, and he thinks he ought to make an effort and open his eyes.

The wet cloth swipes across his forehead again, and his eyes open. Carter's telling the doc that he's coming around, and he can't even work up a smile. He feels weak, and he vaguely remembers waking up on his bedroom floor, who knew how long ago. "C'rrt'r?" Is that garbled sound really his voice?

"Yes, sir. Right here, Colonel." A warm hand squeezes his, and his hazy eyes shift sluggishly to the kind, caring face hovering over him. This is familiar.

Jack tries to squeeze back, feels his fingers give a pathetic twitch in response to his mental commands. His eyelids are fluttering again, and a flash of heat creeps up his neck. Crap.

"Colonel?" Janet appears at his other side. The cool, wet cloth returns, bathing his face, and he slips off into oblivion.

-

When he wakes again, there are voices surrounding him, but different than the two distinct voices from before. It's not Carter and the doc. Jack thinks he feels quite a bit better than before, but still weak as a kitten. At least he's not so hot, and he doesn't feel sweaty, either.

"Doctor Fraiser believes that O'Neill will be well again, within a short time."

"Yeah, she said his fever broke, and his body is slowly returning to a normal state. God, Jack looks awful, though."

"Indeed."

There's no mistaking those voices. Daniel and Teal'c. But where is Carter? It bothers Jack a little how acutely aware he is of her absense. He wonders why he feels like he needs her so much, but then he knows the answer and doesn't want to acknowledge it, so he quickly slams down those thoughts. Jack's eyes open marginally, the same time his mouth does. "I can hear you, ya know." He's mildly amazed that his words aren't craggy and slurred, but doesn't let it show.

"Jack!" Daniel exclaims with surprise, and Jack quirks a smile at his friend's enthusiasm at seeing him awake.

He wants to ask where Carter is, but he knows he'll be revealing far too much if he does. Instead, he just lays there, quirking a weak smile for the two friends that are there. "How's things?" he asks nonchalantly, like he hasn't been fighting for his life for the past couple days or so.

Daniel smiles, laughing softly and shaking his head. Teal'c hovers beside him, an impassive rock, offering solid comfort. "Oh, not too bad, we-"

Jack wonders why Daniel's stopped talking, but his eyes shift focus, his attention on the door and the woman that strides through it. Now he knows why. It's Carter. She looks unbelievably relieved as she quickly comes to the side of his bed. Her fingers rest lightly on his arm, and he feels the calm radiating through her fingertips.

"It's good to see you awake again, sir," Sam says, sounding like she's holding back more emotion that she's showing.

His limbs are heavy and weak, but he reaches over with his left hand to grasp the fingers on his right arm. Jack doesn't know what to say, hoping that the look in his eyes conveys the gratitude he feels for what she's done for him. He figures he'd still be lying on the floor of his bedroom if it wasn't for Carter.

She smiles, and as he briefly glances past her, Jack realizes that Teal'c and Daniel have left them alone. He's mildly amazed at how well his team is able to read each other most times. They know Carter is the one he needs right now, and Jack's a little embarrassed that it's so obvious, but hopefully not to anyone outside SG-1's immediate circle. And possibly Janet. Jack has a sneaking suspicion that she knows _something_.

His eyelids are fluttering, and sleep threatens to claim him once more. He feels Carter's hand slip away from his arm and grasps weakly for her with a feeble, "No."

Her brows twitch slightly as she gazes at him, several different emotions flashing in her sharp blue eyes. "I should let you rest, Colonel."

"Stay," he whispers, his eyelids feeling entirely too heavy right now. Jack knows he sounds pathetic, but he doesn't care. No one else is around anyway. _"Please."_

"Okay. Okay, I'll stay for a while." She smiles at him tightly with concern, and her hand slips away again as she pulls up a chair and sits.

_"Good," _he breathes, relaxing and allowing his eyes to fully close when he feels her hand lightly resting on his arm again. He knows this closeness will have to go away once he's better, but at the moment, he doesn't care. Having Sam by his side right now, when he needs her most, is all that matters.

-The End-


	46. Gone Doesn't Mean Forever

**Summary: **What if he could save her?

**Timeframe: **Post "Gone."

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack, Team

**Genre: **Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, AU

**Rating: **PG.

**Note: **While looking at some old installments from the 'In Time' series, I got the sudden urge to write a happier ending for "Gone."

**Gone Doesn't Mean Forever**

He woke with a gasp, flat on his back, staring unseeing at the ceiling and breathing hard. Jack automatically rolled sideways in bed to reach for her, but she wasn't there. Cold reality hit him in the chest like a two-hundred pound brick. Of course she wouldn't be there. They laid her to rest two days ago.

Jack dragged himself out of bed and made his way to the bathroom by memory. He hadn't needed to use his walking stick in the house for a long time now.

As he splashed water on his face, Jack heard noises coming from outside the room. He remembered that Janet and Daniel had offered to stay with him for a few days. He'd said he didn't need them to, that he'd rather be alone, but they insisted. They were worried about him, and they had a right to be. The love of his life, his whole world, was gone. Without Sam, he didn't know how to live anymore.

Jack pulled himself together enough so that his friends would think he was at least _somewhat _okay. As he walked down the hall to the kitchen, his hand trailing along the wall, Jack breathed deeply and choked back a sob. God, he could still smell her like she was here, like nothing had changed. But _everything_ had changed. His world had been turned upside down and flipped inside out.

He focused on the sounds of Daniel or Janet moving around. It sounded like they were near the coffee maker. He couldn't tell which one of them it was, because all he could smell was _her_.

"Doc? Daniel?" he called out softly, stepping into the kitchen and putting on his mask, not wanting them to see the grief that was still firmly etched onto his soul.

The voice that greeted him was not either of the two that he'd expected.

"Hey, sleepyhead, it's about time you got up!"

Jack's eyebrows shot up, and his heart lodged somewhere in his throat. He thought he was going to be sick. That was Sam's voice he'd just heard. Was he going nuts?

"Jack? What's the matter? You look awfully pale all of a sudden."

He heard the footsteps coming toward him and stumbled backwards, holding his arms out in front of him to ward off the oncoming torment. He couldn't deal with this. She was gone; he'd been with her when she died.

"Jack!"

As he staggered back a few more steps, something caught at the back of his legs and he crashed to the floor. Jack felt the back of his head crack down hard on the floor and knew no more.

-

Slowly, as consciousness returned, Jack's sightless eyes fluttered open to the feel of someone's gentle hand stroking his face. He knew that touch, that hand, that familiar smell. Oh God, it was Sam. Tears stung his eyes as memory came crashing back. It couldn't be her. He'd heard her, he felt her now, but it couldn't be her!

"God, Jack! You scared the life out of me!" Sam cried softly in alarm. "I'm so sorry, babe. I dragged the stepstool out to change a light bulb and forgot to put it away."

He felt her hand lightly brush at the hair on his forehead. His head was pounding, and it was hard to hear her over the loud rush of blood in his ears. Jack swallowed thickly, his voice choked as he said, "Sam?"

Jack pushed himself to sit up and put a hand to his forehead as a wave of dizziness and nausea washed over him.

"Take it easy," Sam warned gently, her warm hand soothingly rubbing circles on his back. "You hit your head pretty hard. You've been out for a few minutes, now."

Still wondering if he was somehow hallucinating, Jack tentatively reached out with one hand, gently groping for her face. He lightly traced her features, the shocking familiarity making his chest feel tight. His rough fingertips ghosted over her eyelids, her nose, her lips. It was Sam, and she was real and warm, and right in front of him. Oh, God, it was really her.

Still seated on the hard floor, Jack reached out and pulled her against him, his arms wrapped tightly around her as if he'd never let go. He felt Sam tense with unease, but he didn't want to release her, afraid that if he did, she'd be gone again for good.

"Jack, what's wrong? You're scaring me."

He was breathing hard, still holding her against him. He could feel her warm breath against the side of his neck. "You died, Sam . . . You died," Jack breathed in a ragged, pain-filled voice.

"Jack," Sam sounded startled. He felt her pull away from him. "Are you okay?" Her hand brushed through his hair again. "I think you hit your head harder than I thought. Maybe I should call Janet."

Jack rubbed a hand over his face and felt Sam shift so that she was now kneeling beside him. Her hand on his knee grounded him, but he still wasn't sure if this was all a dream or some bizarre grief-induced hallucination. "No." He shook his head, which turned out to be a big mistake, and grimaced. A low groan of pain escaped past his lips.

"If you're not feeling up to it, it might be better if we just stay home tonight. We don't have to go out," Sam told him gently, her thumb stroking against his knee.

"Go out?" Suddenly, Jack had an awful sense of déjà vu.

"Dinner tonight?" Sam offered, trying to help jog his memory. "Remember? It's Friday. We were meeting Janet and the guys at O'Malley's."

Jack felt the blood drain from his face again, his gut churning. They'd been heading back to the car after dinner with everyone at O'Malley's the night Sam was killed. That was about five days ago, by his counts. It should be Wednesday, not Friday.

Sam must have noticed the sick look on his face, because the next thing he knew, she was grabbing him under his arm and gently hauling him to his feet. "Okay, that's it. I'm taking you in to see Janet."

He tried to protest, but found that he couldn't speak. Anything he said at this point would just sound crazy, affirming Sam's concerns that he was not well. Luckily, she didn't suspect him of suddenly going crazy, yet, and was obviously thinking his odd behavior had been caused by the knock to his head.

-

Throughout the car ride, and on base, all Jack wanted to do was hang onto Sam. He wanted to keep touching her so he could be sure she was still there, that this wasn't all some sick, twisted dream. And if it was, oh God, he didn't want to wake up.

He had to force himself not to be so clingy, because he didn't want to worry Sam any more than he already had. Without alerting anyone else, Jack had to find out for sure if this awful day was repeating itself again. And if it _was_ repeating itself - if he had somehow gone back - did it mean that he could save her?

"Jack?" Sam's hand stayed on his knee while he sat on the infirmary bed, waiting for Janet to come back with the films from his CT scan.

"I'm fine," Jack muttered between his teeth. He pressed his palm against his forehead and sighed. If this was real - and the headache from his fall sure _felt _real - then he sure as hell hoped that Sam's death had been the dream. The nagging thought that it wasn't a dream was eating at him, though.

He was impatiently tapping his walking stick against the floor when he heard the click of Janet's heels as she returned.

"Jack, I'm happy to say that your scans are clean," the doctor said, sounding pleased with the news as she got closer. "You do have a light concussion, however, and I think you should take it easy for the rest of the day."

He scowled. If this day was somehow his second chance to save Sam, then what if the day needed to go the same route as it did when she was killed, at least up until that point? What if changing things too much meant Sam would die anyway?

Sam's hand gave his rigid left knee a squeeze. "We'll meet up for dinner another night," she assured Janet. "It's no big deal."

"Don't worry about it," Janet said, her voice sincere.

"I'm fine," Jack insisted, sliding off the bed. "We should still go."

"Jack," Sam breathed, exasperated. "Janet said you need to rest. You should rest. We can go out another time."

Her hand was at his back, and the tension eased. Jack gritted his teeth, knowing he shouldn't force the issue. Sam would be more insistent that he stay home if he acted any more oddly then he'd been acting since he woke up this morning. He just hoped that he could save her regardless of how the day had been altered.

-

Sam had forcefully persuaded Jack to rest on the couch as soon as they got home. She turned the TV on for him to listen to, and he could hear her puttering around in the kitchen after she said she was going to make something to eat.

His hands fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt restlessly, uneasy with his current inability to draw Sam close. Instead of listening to what sounded like a hockey game on TV, Jack let his mind drift over the events of the day, and what he remembered from this very day the first time around. He tried not to think too much about the oddness of repeating this day without an alien time loop, because that just made his head hurt. Jack focused, instead, on the parallels.

The first time around, he remembered being awake earlier. He'd been in the kitchen drinking coffee when Sam was changing the light bulb. She hadn't forgotten the step stool that time. Everything was different now. By this time, previously, he fondly recalled making love to Sam in the bedroom before finally deciding to get their day started and taking their separate showers.

Jack rubbed a hand through his hair, his unseeing eyes wistfully staring in the general direction of the television. By the time he realized he was falling asleep, Jack was too exhausted to prevent it.

-

"Jack?"

He felt a warm, gentle hand brush through his hair, soothing the ache in his head as consciousness slowly returned.

"Jack, honey, wake up."

His blind eyes snapped open and he jerked. _Sam! _his mind screamed. He had to save her!

_"Shh; easy," _her soft voice soothed, Sam's light touch relaxing him as her hand moved to his shoulder. "Sorry; I didn't mean to startle you. You've been asleep for almost two hours."

Jack swallowed, clenching his jaw and heaving out a sigh through his nostrils as he groped for his wife's face.

Sam touched the hand on her face, and he felt her smile. "I saved you a sandwich. Are you hungry?"

He nodded absently, and felt her get up off the couch beside him. Truthfully, he felt like he might throw up, but Sam didn't need to know that. When her footsteps drifted away towards the kitchen, he pressed the button on his wristwatch so it would tell him the time.

_"Two-forty-eight PM," _the digital voice intoned emotionlessly.

Jack grunted and dragged a hand over his face. There was still at least five hours to go until they passed the mark when Sam had died. He was getting anxious, still afraid this was all a dream, and he was going to wake up to her gone. The very thought brought on the sting of threatening tears. He couldn't lose her. Not again.

-

As he entered the kitchen, Sam came over and grasped his upper arm, slowly guiding him into a seat at the table. Normally, Jack didn't need her help, and Sam knew that. But he also knew she was doing it because she was worried about him, and probably feeling guilty about him falling and cracking his head on the floor.

He sat very still, willing the nausea away as he heard a plate slide toward him on the table. Jack reached for the sandwich and took a slow, tentative bite, trying not to grimace. He was sure it tasted good, but he just couldn't concentrate on the taste when all he wanted to do was puke.

"How's your head?" Sam asked softly, and he heard her pull out the chair to his right, taking a bite of her own sandwich, the lettuce making a loud crunching sound.

Jack chewed deliberately, breathing in and out through his nose, his unseeing eyes listlessly shifting from left to right. He forced his first and only bite down, then reached for a glass of water that wasn't there, and placed his hand flat on the table. "Okay," Jack answered in response with a shrug.

"Janet said you could take some extra-strength Tylenol." The chair slid back noisily, and he could hear her footsteps moving away. Jack's head throbbed.

He'd shoved his sandwich away by the time she came back with the Tylenol. Even the thought of swallowing the pills made him queasy. As Sam pushed a glass of water into his hand, along with the tablets in the other, he felt her warm skin against his, and was once more assaulted with the very real fear that he could lose her.

Once he'd forced the pills down, he set his glass on the table, and Sam's hand slid over his. Jack stiffened without meaning to, flipping his hand over to grip hers. As he began to trace circles over her smooth hand, he worked up a smile, hoping that she saw it.

"Jack, why don't you go lie down again for a while. Since we're not going out tonight, I'm just going to run to the store and grab us something to cook for dinner." Sam started to get up, but Jack wouldn't let go of her hand.

Everything was different now, and he was afraid to let her out of his sight, so to speak. What if she got into an accident going to the grocery store? What if some mugger caught her off guard, or there was some freak accident at the store? Jack knew that he couldn't keep her in a bubble, and thinking that danger was around every corner was gong to drive him nuts, but until this day was over, until he could be sure that today was not Sam's day to die, he couldn't let it go.

"What is it?" Sam asked him, a tinge of wariness to her voice. He imagined her eyeing him worriedly. She gave his hand a returning squeeze.

"I, uh, I'll go with you." He said, forcing back another wave of nausea as he rose to his feet, not letting go of her hand. Jack wasn't so sure the nausea he felt was entirely due to the concussion.

"Jack, no. You need to rest."

"I'll rest later. I just want to get out of the house for a little while," he told her convincingly. "I'm _fine_," he insisted. "Really."

"Alright," she relented with a soft sigh.

Jack smiled with relief. He slowly let go of her hand as he got up. "I'll go get my shoes."

"I think they're on the floor by the couch," Sam told him as he headed out of the kitchen. "Your walking stick is in the corner by the door."

"Okay." Jack slowly made his way down to the lounge, going slow on the stairs because he was still a little dizzy. He forced back the feeling, not wanting to let it show. He wasn't leaving Sam's side.

-

Jack held onto the side of the shopping cart with one hand while Sam slowly pushed it down the grocery store aisles. His walking stick tapped softly away on the other side as Sam told him which aisle they were going down, and asked if he'd wanted anything in particular for dinner. Jack couldn't think much past the nausea from his throbbing head, and the churning in his gut that kept reminding him that Sam was supposed to die today.

"I was thinking about maybe lemon chicken and some rice? Do you think it'll be light enough on your stomach or do you want something else?"

Sam's voice momentarily broke through his unfocussed haze. "Ah, no, that . . . that's fine," he mumbled distractedly.

"Okay. We don't really need much else. Let's just hurry up and get out of here so you can get back home and rest."

Jack swallowed and sighed sharply. He definitely wanted to get home. At home it would be easier to let the day just pass them by, to keep her safe.

-

The rattle of the shopping cart as they crossed the parking lot sent Jack off in a daze. He kept holding onto the side while Sam pushed their carriage back to the car. He only stopped walking when his cane hit the rear bumper, and he heard Sam pop the trunk open.

He helped Sam put the groceries into the trunk, then froze suddenly when she told him she was going to return the cart, and he heard her walk away. Something shifted in front of his eyes, which he knew wasn't possible. All he ever saw was darkness, but for some reason, Jack swore he was beginning to see something. His brows knit together in concentration. It was a light; a bright, white light that was getting bigger in the darkness.

Jack jerked with surprise, the car bumper hitting the backs of his knees as the white light morphed into a glowy vision of Skaara. He opened his mouth to speak, but the ascended form spoke first.

Skaara's voice was faint, strange sounding, and distant. Jack was still getting over the shock that he could 'see' him. _"You can save her, O'Neill."_

"What?" Jack spluttered with confusion, and the image of the ascended Abydonian boy disappeared as suddenly as he'd appeared, leaving Jack once more staring into black nothingness.

The echoe of Sam's returning footsteps on the pavement jolted him, and the screech of a fast moving car was all he could hear.

No! This wasn't happening again! Not Sam. No!

Jack jumped forward, groping outwards, his hands miraculously grasping onto Sam's arms. He felt the air rush past from the speeding car as he quickly jerked his wife against him. Hearing her gasp against his neck, Jack pulled her to safety, the force of their colliding bodies knocking him off balance.

He fell backwards, protecting Sam from the fall, her weight knocking the air out of his lungs before his head cracked painfully against the unyielding pavement. Jack's last thought was of overwhelming relief that he had saved her.

-

"Jack?" Frantic hands patted his face, rousing him from oblivion. "Jack, honey, open your eyes."

His foggy brain took a moment to catch up, and damn, his head was throbbing. Wincing, Jack slowly cracked his sightless eyes open, for what good it did.

"Janet, he's awake." It was Sam's voice. She'd woken him. She was alive.

Wait. Did she say Janet? What was the doc doing in the grocery store parking lot? "Sam?" he choked out, unsure and confused. Jack could feel hard, rough pavement beneath him, and knew he wasn't in the infirmary. Something soft was beneath his aching head, and he figured it to be a bunched up jacket.

"I'm right here." Sam's warm, soft hand slipped into his, and he felt another hand touch his chest.

"Jack, I want you to stay still for now, okay?" That was Janet.

Jack shifted, but didn't make a further attempt to move as his head throbbed.

"It would be wise to do as Doctor Fraiser says, O'Neill," came Teal'c's deep baritone.

He didn't answer, still pretty confused. Then he heard heavy steps against the pavement, and another familiar voice.

"The ambulance is on the way." Daniel; his voice concerned. "Jack, you're awake."

Still trying to figure out what had just happened, Jack shifted his head slightly and groaned at the pain that spiked through the back of his skull.

"Is he okay?" Daniel was asking worriedly.

Jack squeezed Sam's hand and softly asked, "What happened?"

"A car nearly rammed straight into me. Jack, you pulled me out of the way, and we fell backwards. You hit your head." Sam told him, her voice gentle and loving.

His eyebrows rose. "What day is it?"

"Friday. We're at O'Malley's, Jack. Remember?" Sam lightly touched his cheek.

A slow smiled spread across his face, and he closed his eyes with relief._ "It worked," _he whispered, heaving a sigh. He imagined Sam and his friends sharing bewildered looks, but all he could do was smile.

As Sam kissed his cheek, all he could think was that she was alive. He'd saved her. Jack still wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but he didn't care. Sam was alive, and he had his heart back. That was all that mattered.

-Fin-


	47. Good Morning

**Summary: **This never gets old.

**Timeframe: **Any.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SJ

**Genre: **Drabble, Romance, Fluff

**Word Count: **118

**Rating:**G.

**Note: **Written for _taj_mahal07_.

**Good Morning**

Jack turns on his side, smiling dopily at the sleeping face mere inches from his own.

The long, blonde lashes, the faint freckles across her nose, and the plump pink lips remind him why he'll never get tired of waking up with this woman.

He watches her eyes twitch beneath closed lids, an unmistakable sign that Sam is waking.

As the lids lift, he finds himself staring into sparking, steel-blue eyes. His heart still flutters when she smiles at him. He's grinning like a fool, but he doesn't care.

"Mornin'."

"Good morning." Sam wiggles those scant few inches closer and gives him a peck on the nose.

Yep, he thinks with a happy heart. Definitely a good morning.


	48. Who Cares?

**Summary: **Alien influences make the best excuses.

**Timeframe: **Any.

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Drabble, Romance

**Word Count: **119

**Rating:**PG-13

**Note: **Written for _regularamanda_, who wanted a guttery, alien-influenced kiss. :)

**Who Cares?**

The plant the local healer gave them was supposed to prevent them from getting sick off the unusual local cuisine, NOT make them horny!

But as Colonel O'Neill's tongue darted into her mouth, his hand making it's way up her shirt, and _her _hand sliding beneath his, the inappropriateness of what they were currently doing was the _last _thing on Sam's mind.

"Colonel, what about Daniel and . . . Oh." Suddenly she was very aware of O'Neill's NOT sidearm pressing against her thigh.

"Who cares?" He grunts into her neck, nipping at a tendon before claiming her mouth with his own again.

_Right_, she thinks, coherent thoughts fading again as she rolls forcefully and reverses their positions. _Who cares? _


	49. Here We Are

**Summary: **Sam's having a very busy day.

**Timeframe: **Any, kinda AU

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SamJack.

**Genre: **Fluff

**Rating: **G

**Here We Are**

It had been a long, busy day for Sam at the SGC. She'd had to run a new technology briefing before dealing with the latest disaster in Jay Felger's lab, then she'd barricaded herself in her own office to finish three mission's worth of backed up reports. And that was all before lunch time.

By the time she got home, it was well past dinner and she'd even taken some of her work home to get caught up before morning. Sam had barely said hello to Jack as she made her way to the kitchen, heated up the plate of food he'd so thoughtfully left for her, and then camped out at the dining room table, her papers spread all over the place with just a small spot for her supper.

She'd been so tired when she finally got done, that Sam barely registered the moment—maybe an hour earlier—when Jack had come in and asked her to come to bed. She grimaced as she vaguely recalled snappishly telling him not to bother her because she just _had _to get her work done.

Rubbing at her temples, Sam gathered her work into a folder, shut down her laptop, turned off all the kitchen/dining room lights, and lumbered toward the bedroom.

In her half-asleep, exhausted trance, Sam changed into some PJs, then went through her nightly ablutions, and was about to crawl into bed before realizing that Jack wasn't even there.

Backing out of the room, Sam went to search the house. He hadn't been in the kitchen or dining room, because that's where she'd been working. She checked the living room next—no go there, either. Seeing a glow of light from the study, Sam padded down the hall and leaned into the doorway. A smile spread across her face.

Jack had fallen asleep at the computer playing Space Cadet Pinball. It was the sweetest thing she'd ever seen.

Knowing his back would ache to Holy Hell if he stayed there all night, Sam quietly entered the room, shut down the PC, and then gently nudged his shoulder, waking him.

"Hrm?" He blinked at her blearily as he lifted his head, leaving a trail of drool on the desktop near the keyboard.

Sam leaned down and kissed his cheek affectionately. "Thanks for giving me space to work," she whispered sincerely, ruffling his already-mussed hair. "And for leaving me dinner." She kissed him again, then gave his shoulder a gentle shake. "Now, come to bed."

Jack straightened in the chair and yawned. "I thought I'd been the one asking you that?" he mumbled sleepily.

She smiled, giving his arm a tug. Sam couldn't possibly love this man more than she already did. "C'mon, flyboy."

-The End-


	50. Daddy's Girl

**Summary: **Someone wants to steal Jack from Sam.

**Timeframe: **Same timeline as "Boo Boo," etc.

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack, Maddie

**Genre: **Fluff, Humor

**Rating: **G

**Daddy's Girl**

Sam tip-toed down the hall to her daughter's bedroom, where she could hear Maddie and Jack's soft voices as her husband was putting their little girl to bed.

She stopped just outside the door, out of sight, listening to the father/daughter conversation with a smile on her face.

"_Daddy, will you mawwy me?"_

Sam stifled a laugh and ducked her head, hearing Jack's chuckle.

"_You don't wanna marry me, kiddo. I'm too old."_

There was a short pause in conversation, then Sam heard Maddie again. _"When I get big?"_

"_Why do you wanna marry me, anyway?"_

"'_Cause I wuv you, Daddy!"_

"_Aw, I love you, too kiddo."_

Sam's heart melted into a puddle of goo right there. She moved away from the wall and finally stepped into the room. Jack was sitting on the edge of their daughter's bed, leaning down to kiss Maddie's cheek after pulling her blankets up.

"Hey, you two."

Jack turned to her with a grin, and Maddie stretched out her arms. "Mommy! Come kiss me goodnight!"

Sam smiled and hurried over to join her family. "I'd love to, sweetheart." She kissed her daughter's cheek lovingly, then Jack tugged her into his arms when she stood up again.

"Welcome home," Jack whispered softly into the side of her neck.

They both turned and wished their daughter goodnight one more time before heading for the door, only to be stopped by a protest from Maddie.

"Mommy, wait!"

Sam turned, gesturing for Jack to keep going. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"When you is done wif Daddy, it's my turn to mawwy him, o'tay?"

Trying hard not to laugh at her daughter's serious expression, Sam suppressed a smile and nodded. "You got it," she agreed, but Sam had a feeling her daughter might be disappointed to find that her mom wasn't about to give him up any time soon.

-


	51. At the End

**Summary: **Side by side at the end of it all…

**Timeframe: **AU, any

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Apocafic, angst, tragedy, drabble

**Word Count: **100

**Rating: **G

**At the End**

Side by side at the end of it all, they're slumped against each other—broken, inconsolable.

Everyone they've ever loved is gone.

Jack knows they make a gruesome pair.

One side of his face is caked with blood from a gash that's long-since stopped bleeding; Sam's right leg is a scraped mess, and their clothes are ragged.

The only thing that can possibly keep him going is her.

The world they knew has fallen down around them, but Jack has faith they can still make it. As long as his days continue to begin and end with her, he'll be fine.


	52. Working Together

**Summary:** Her science team should _definitely_ work with SG-1 more often.

**Timeframe: **Any, AU

**Characters/Pairing: **Established SamJack

**Genre: **Fluff

**Rating: **PG

**Working Together**

Sam turned on her side as the morning rays burst in through the opening in their hut. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and smiled at the man lying on the other side of the bed, his naked back in full view, blanket pushed down almost to his waist. The warm breeze felt good on her bare shoulders as she lay there, watching him sleep.

Her head still felt a little fuzzy, effects of the strawberry wine—it wasn't, though, since they were off-world, but she was calling it strawberry—from the previous night's ceremonies. Once this planet's natives had discovered that she and Jack had recently married, they'd insisted on throwing a big celebratory bash—both for that and to celebrate the meeting of their newest allies.

Sam's science team had joined SG-1 off-world to study the natives' plants, which they discovered had some strong analgesic properties, while SG-1 talked treaties with these kind folks. It was the first time she and Jack had been off-world together since Sam resigned and took a civilian leadership position on the SGC's newest field science team.

Before they'd started seeing each other, over a year ago now, Jack had asked Hammond if it was possible to step down as 2IC of the base while remaining leader of the SGC's flagship team. After a lengthy explanation of the particular circumstances which prompted this request, and bringing Sam into the private _meeting_, the General took matters into his own hands and approved the change. This was his base and his decision, and Sam had been a little surprised that he deemed it unnecessary to add any "big wigs" into the equation.

Sam had been off SG-1 for a few months beforehand, and Hammond had known that she and Jack had never broken any regulations or acted inappropriately. He even seemed pleased that they were "getting their acts together," according to Daniel.

Focusing her attention on the sleeping man in her bed, Sam mused how watching him lying next to her was still such a novelty. She enjoyed his company as a friend, co-worker, and teammate as well as a lover, and doubted any of that would fade over time.

When Jack began to stir, Sam remained still, letting him come awake on his own. He rolled to his back and peered at her groggily, his expression fogged over with a still-drunken haze. He'd drunk much more of that fruity, alcoholic brew than she had, and despite the flavorful taste, it had turned out to be quite strong.

"Carter?" he murmured, sounding pretty punchy.

Sam tried not to smile at the use of her surname, or at the adorable way in which his hair poked out at every angle.

Befuddled brown eyes blinked at her, the furrow between his brows deepening. "You're naked."

She didn't suppress the burst of laughter. Sam waved a hand at him. "Look who's talking, flyboy."

Jack's head bobbed sideways like it was disconnected from the rest of his body. He steadied it enough to look down at himself, lifting the blanket covering his lower half with one hand. She watched his eyebrows go up. "I'm naked."

Snorting, Sam nodded. "Yeah, and you're still drunk from last night."

He made a face, looked past her through the bright sunlight in the hut's opening. "We're not at home," Jack mumbled softly, as though to himself.

"No," Sam shook her head and sat up, tugging at the blankets to make sure she stayed covered. When Jack sat up as well, she couldn't help admiring his bare chest, resisting the urge to touch him, let her hands coast through the coarse chest hair.

Jack worked his jaw for a moment, then dragged a hand over his face and asked, "Did we, ah—"

Sam shook her head again, smiling. "No." She tilted her head, flippantly stating, "Not that I wouldn't have _liked _to… But we are technically still on assignment." She scooted a little closer and gave him a good morning kiss. "Plus, you passed out as soon as we crawled into our hut last night, and I wasn't far behind you."

"Ah." Jack quirked a smile, appearing slightly more focused now. If they got up and got dressed, Sam was sure he could manage to pass for sober. "Daniel and Teal'c?"

"Next hut over."

"They drink?" One of Jack's eyebrows went up questioningly.

"Teal'c definitely didn't, and I think Daniel just had the one glass, like me." Sam ran a hand through her hair. "I'm still a little fuzzy, but okay. Daniel should be fine. But wow, that stuff is _potent_."

Jack groaned and rubbed at his head. "Yeah. I know." He grunted.

Taking the top blanket with her, Sam got off the bed and discovered her clothes on the floor. She dressed quickly, then turned to find Jack on the other side of the bed, standing as he pulled up his shorts before flopping back down on the bed with half the rest of his clothes in his lap. He gave a disgruntled snort and Sam laughed.

"What's so funny?" he grumbled, pulling a hand through his short hair and glaring half-heartedly at her.

Sam sauntered over, picking his pants up off the floor and handing them to him with a big smile on her face. "You're cute when you're half drunk."

He rose an eyebrow at her and grinned lazily. "I'll be sure to make a note of that when we get home."

Laughing softly, Sam affectionately reached out and ruffled his hair. "Finish getting dressed so we can go pretend to be mad at Daniel for getting us all drunk."

Jack chuckled, then threw a half-assed salute at her. "Yes, ma'am."

Sam was smiling to herself as she pulled on her tac vest, one thought running through her mind; her science team should _definitely_ work with SG-1 more often.

-The End-


	53. Stuck

**Summary: **"Great. I think it's stuck."

**Timeframe: **The _Shawny _timeline created in "In Time: Let Go."

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack, Shawny

**Genre: **Drabble, Fluff, Humor, Family

**Word Count: **142

**Rating:**G

**Note: **Written for an A-Z writing meme on LiveJournal using the letter 'S' and the word 'Stuck,' chosen by Regularamanda.

**Stuck**

"Great. I think it's stuck," Jack muttered with a groan before giving one last, futile tug. "Um, yeah. It's definitely stuck." Cursing under his breath, Jack looked down at the wide, puppy-like blue eyes staring up at him.

"Jack, what's taking you so long? Just put him in a clean shirt and let's go," came Sam's impatient voice from down the hall.

Grimacing, Jack lifted his sixteen-month-old son and perched him on his hip. One more time he tried to gently pluck the marble-like object out of the baby's right nostril, but Shawny squirmed and started to cry this time, and the round bit of doggy kibble stuck up his nose didn't budge.

"I am _so _getting blamed for this." Sighing, Jack patted his son's back and carried him out of the nursery. "Ah, Sam? We got a little problem here."

.Fin.


	54. As the Natives Do

**Summary: **It's the boys' turn to dress like the natives.

**Timeframe: **Some time after "Emancipation" in season one.

**Characters/Pairing: **Jack/Sam UST

**Genre: **Humor, UST

**Rating:**G.

**Note: **Written for an alphabet writing meme for _elle11elle_, who chose the letter 'H' for 'Hunt/Hunting.'

**As the Natives Do**

"I'm not wearing that."

At the sound of her teammates voices from inside, Sam crept closer to the closed flap of the big tent.

"Jack, it's traditional for the hunting party to wear the ceremonial outfits."

"You call that an outfit? Daniel, I've got jock straps that cover more than that thing!" the Colonel cried indignantly.

She could imagine Daniel's sagging shoulders when she heard the loud, exasperated sigh that followed.

"As guests joining the native hunters, it's a sign of respect for us to wear this as well." Daniel's voice was coaxing. "Jack, please, just do this. What would General Hammond say if he found out we blew a treaty with these people because you refused to honor their traditions?"

Sam took a step back as she heard muttered cursing and the sound of rustling clothes. A moment later the tent flap opened, and the three men stepped out dressed in the native garb. Her eyes went wide involuntarily. Although all three men were dressed similarly in what she could only describe as loincloths, Sam only had eyes for the Colonel.

Her gaze swept up from his bare feet, following the line of calf muscles and past scarred knees, up to lean, muscular thighs. Sam's breath caught in her throat as she skipped over the skimpy bit of animal skin that passed as cloth, and went straight to his flat abdomen, and then the bare chest, sprinkled with a smattering of grey-brown chest hairs.

When her gaze reached the hard lines of his jaw, the firm, set scowl reminded her that he was not a very happy man at the moment. Sam bit her lip to stop herself from whistling.

"Not one word, Carter. Not one word."

.Fin.


	55. Holding On

**Summary: **"If he was dead I would feel it."

**Timeframe: **Any, Slight AU

**Characters/Pairing: **Team, implied established Sam/Jack.

**Genre: **Angst, Drama

**Rating: **G

**Note: **Written as a birthday present for _Regularamanda. _

**Holding On**

"Sam?"

Sniffing back tears, Sam sat hunched over her lab bench, ignoring the concerned call from her friend and pretending to be intently focused on her work.

"Sam, are you okay?" Ever the persistent one, Daniel tried again. This time he stepped into the lab and pulled up a chair beside her, ignoring her attempts to block him out.

"I'm fine, Daniel. Can you please just go?" She hated the obvious sound of sadness and despair in her voice. Sam didn't look up from the open book in front of her. She was hunched over the photo album protectively, shielding it from his view.

Still avoiding her attempts to get rid of him, Daniel wedged his fingers beneath her protective arms and gently tugged the book away from her. He was only half-surprised to discover the familiar worn photo album, it's glossy pages sprinkled with teardrops. It was SG-1's album, the one Sam had suggested they start toward the middle of their first year together as a team, when they'd really become more than just teammates and coworkers. They'd become family.

The old book was open to a page filled with photographs from one of their many get-together's at O'Malley's. A particular image caught Daniel's attention. It was one Teal'c had taken of Sam and Jack, when the two of them had thought he and Daniel were out of sight, probably replenishing their pitcher of beer or making a trip to the bathroom. They looked happy and content, laughing together and sitting just a little closer than what was considered appropriate for their military relationship. It was the moment Daniel knew—_really knew_—that his two friends were meant to be something more.

He looked up to find Sam furiously wiping tears from her eyes, trying to cover up her emotional breakdown. Tiny cracks were destroying her carefully constructed façade of military officer perfection.

Daniel didn't want to be the one to say it, but someone had to, and he was the likely candidate. Clearing his throat to suppress his own emotional reaction, he carefully placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and softly said, "It's been six months, Sam… There's been no trace… It—I think it's time to let him go."

Sam furiously shook her head, and Daniel could see her struggle; the way her lower lip quivered, the wrinkles in her chin as she tried hard not to cry. "I can't, Daniel. I don't believe he's gone."

"Sam…" Daniel felt his own throat constricting.

"Daniel," she looked him in the eye, her voice firm and full of conviction. "Jack's not dead. He can't be." Sam's voice softened and she looked away again. _"If he was dead I would feel it." _

Daniel didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't deny that she and Jack had always seemed to have a special connection, more than attraction or the love he knew that had for one another. He got up from his chair, gave Sam a gentle hug, and walked out of her lab.

.

Almost a week after Daniel's brief talk with Sam, the SGC was contacted by the Nox. Lya had come through the gate, insisting that SG-1 join her back on their planet. There was a calm urgency about the Nox woman, and Daniel had noticed that something in General Hammond's wise grey-blue eyes understood on some level, that Lya needed them to go.

Sam was the first to step through the gate onto the Nox world. Lya was silent as they followed her through the woods to one of their little huts. It was so familiar, even though it had been a long while since they'd been there.

Teal'c walked closely beside Sam as though he sensed what was coming, and Daniel trailed off behind a little more slowly, fearing the worst. All he could think was that the Nox had somehow found Jack, and he was dead.

For a scary, breathless moment as they entered a dark hut with Lya, his fears had been confirmed. Sam's hitched gasp went right through him, and Teal'c went stock still when they found themselves looking down at Jack O'Neill lying peacefully on a corner cot. He was pale, thin, and lifeless.

Sam choked on a sob, and Daniel stared down at his feet, tears pooling in his eyes until he heard her next gasp. "He's breathing!"

"He lives," Lya confirmed softly, kneeling by Jack's head.

"OhmyGod." Daniel felt his legs turn into spaghetti.

"O'Neill emerged from our…_stargate_ one day ago. He was very weak; near death."

"Yet he has been healed, has he not?" Teal'c questioned, his voice soft and low. Daniel noticed the Jaffa's gaze never left their friend.

"We have performed the Ritual of Life, yes." Lya sent them all a small, comforting smile. "He rests now. It took much to revive him."

Teal'c was quick to embrace Sam as she leaned against him suddenly, overwrought and trembling, but otherwise silent. Daniel felt tears streak down his cheeks, and had to remove his glasses to clear his vision. Jack was back.

.

Anteaus joined them shortly after Lya had led the team reluctantly out of the hut. Sam couldn't believe what was happening; Jack was back. It all seemed too easy. But wait… "Is it really him? Are you sure?" she asked the Nox tremulously. Her heart, her very _soul_ was telling her that this was really Jack, but she didn't want to get her hopes up. She was scared.

"We have confirmed his identity," Anteaus told them without explaining how. She hadn't expected him to.

"What happened to him?" Daniel asked from beside her, and Sam could hear his voice crack.

Lya eyed them all somberly. "We do not know."

"He simply emerged from our doorway," Anteaus added.

Daniel, Sam, and Teal'c are shared somewhat puzzled looks, but otherwise let it go. None of them really cared _how _Jack got to the Nox, only that he had, and that he was alive now because of it.

Sam did a half turn and looked back at the hut they'd emerged from a moment ago. Anteaus was taking them to sit in the circle and have something to eat. She didn't want to eat. She just wanted to see Jack.

Lya touched her arm, startling her. "You wish to go?" The Nox woman pointed back toward the hut.

Smiling tightly, Sam nodded, looking up at her teammates for a moment and gaining their understanding nods or approval. "Yes, I do."

Lya nodded and serenely waved her on.

Wasting no time, Sam quickly re-entered the dark dwelling, her heart in her throat as she approached the cot where Jack lay. She really looked at him for the first time as she knelt at his side. His face was grey—pale and gaunt looking. There was a blanket covering him up to his chest, and he was obviously naked beneath. Sam assumed his clothes had been beyond repair, and that was somehow frightening, telling of what he'd been through over the last six months.

Sam felt sick looking at him. He was so thin. She felt tears in her eyes again, and clenched them shut to banish the onslaught.

"_Hey…you."_

The weak, rasp of a voice drew her attention, and Sam forced her eyes open to look at the man lying so still on the cot. "Colonel," she gasped, sniffing back another threat of tears, this time those of relief.

Sam didn't realize she'd grasped his hand until his gaze shifted to their joined digits, and he quirked an eyebrow. She didn't let go. She couldn't.

"Missed you…too, Carter," he murmured, a half smile forming on his grey lips.

Smiling tightly, Sam continued to clutch his hand as he began to sit up. She helped him as he struggled to orient himself, swaying and fighting off a wave of dizziness. She found a pitcher of water nearby and poured him a cup. "Here, sir, have something to drink."

Jack took the cup with a frail, shaking hand and took one tentative sip before making a face. "This isn't water."

"No, it is to help replenish your strength."

Both Sam and Jack looked toward the doorway to find Lya entering the hut and moving over to them.

"Tastes weird," Jack murmured, then when Lya gave him a long, patient look, he drank.

"Will he be okay to come back through the gate with us?" Sam asked cautiously, wanting nothing more than to get her once-lost CO back to Earth.

Lya nodded smoothly. "He will regain some strength shortly." She waved her hand at him again. "Drink." Jack complied, and Sam watched him carefully.

.

Sam watched Jack like a hawk the entire trek back to the gate. Whatever Lya had given him to drink had surely restored a great deal of strength—as had the healing ritual the Nox had performed—but he was still quite weak, and Sam insisted that they stopped often.

Having no clothes of his own, Daniel offered Jack the spare BDUs and t-shirt in his pack. Jack had always been leaner than Daniel, but he was solid, and the archaeologist's clothes wouldn't have fit him quite so poorly as they did now. In his current state, the pants and t-shirt Jack was wearing completely swamped him, causing Jack to look even more frail and awkward as he slowly trekked toward the gate with his team.

Sam's heart clenched with sympathy, and she clung to his arm as they reached the gate that the Nox had made visible again before their very eyes. Daniel automatically jogged over to the DHD and began dialing Earth while Teal'c stood by, fingers ready on his GDO. All three of them were clearly anxious to get Jack home.

Jack had been aware that he'd been missing for a while, but when they'd revealed to him that six months had passed, the Colonel was at a loss for words. He didn't say what had happened to him, or if he even _remembered, _but Sam caught his dark eyes and saw something in those deep brown orbs that said someday—maybe not soon—but _someday _he might tell _her_.

Sam noticed Teal'c and Daniel share a look before they must have decided that they were going to go through the gate first, to give her and Jack a moment. She appreciated it.

"Carter?" Jack was leaning on her a little more now, his legs weakening.

She turned so that she was more or less facing him, one arm firmly around his waist. With her free hand, she gently cupped the side of his face and looked into his eyes as she leaned forward to place a tender kiss on his pale lips. _"I knew you weren't dead. I knew it." _

When she pulled away Sam knew tears were running down her cheeks, but she didn't care. The confusion on his face quickly morphed into relief, and it pained her to hear his hitched breath.

"Oh God, Carter. I was so afraid that we—"

Sam cut him off with a gentle finger on his lips. His hands were clutching at her waist now. "It's real, Jack. This is real. You're back. You came back, and you're safe." She pulled him to her, just holding him. They stayed that way for a long moment, then with equal soft sighs, leaning on one another for support, Sam and Jack stepped through the gate. It was time to go home.

.Fin.


	56. Bonked

**Summary: **Just when Jack thinks he's ahead of the game…

**Timeframe: **AU (the _Maddie_ universe started in "Boo-Boo.")

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack, Maddie

**Genre: **Fluff, Humor

**Rating: **G

**Bonked**

Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow as her husband strode into the kitchen wielding a child-sized aluminum baseball bat, a glove and ball in the other hand. "Jack," she began cautiously, a hint of warning in her tone.

"Sam, it's official," he announced with a boyish twinkle in his dark eyes. "It's time for Maddie to learn the basics of Tee-Ball."

Not wanting to quash her husband's enthusiasm in teaching their four-year-old daughter how to play one of his favorite sports, Sam decided that voicing a warning wouldn't do any harm. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Jack?"

"Maddie's at a perfect age to start!" The grin never left Jack's face. "She'll be fine, Sam. I even got her a batting helmet, just to be extra safe."

Snorting softly with amusement, Sam waved a hand at her husband. "I was actually concerned about _your _safety," she said flippantly.

"No problem." Not missing a beat, a smug grin spread across Jack's face. "I'm wearin' a cup."

Suppressing her laugh, but not a smile, Sam closed her eyes and shook her head. "Alright," she caved, waving a hand in dismissal. "Go play."

"Yes!" Jack cheered and headed for the back door. "Hey, Mads, come on outside! Daddy's gonna show you a new game!"

"Yay!" Sam heard their daughter's delighted squeal from down the hall, and moments later the four-year-old was bounding off toward the door.

.

Once he'd finished going over the mechanics of catching the ball, Jack decided it was time to set up the Tee.

"Daddy, what ifs that for?" Maddie cocked her blonde, curly head curiously and pointed at the plastic Tee.

"I'm gonna show you, kiddo. Just watch." Ignoring the crick in his knees, Jack knelt in the grass beside the short Tee and set the ball on top. "Now you swing at the ball like this." He picked the bat up off the grass and swung gently, knocking the ball off its perch.

Maddie's face lit up with excitement. "Cool!" She ran to pick up the ball and returned it to Jack.

Jack handed his daughter the bat. "Okay, Mads, how 'bout you take a few practice swings before we hit the ball, alright?"

"O'tay," Maddie agreed with a nod, awkwardly holding the child-sized aluminum bat. "What I do wif this?"

Still on his knees, Jack adjusted his daughter's stance and got the bat situated over her shoulder. "Now you just swing."

.

_"MOMMY!" _

Immediately dropping her book at the sound of her daughter's bloodcurdling scream, Sam bolted off the couch and out the back door into the yard. Her mother's instincts were on overdrive, and all she could picture was her little girl with a bloody nose, or even a black eye.

What Sam _wasn't _expecting, was to find her four-year-old standing over Jack, who appeared unconscious on the lawn, the baseball bat on the ground by his head.

"I killeded Daddy!" Maddie screeched, her attention flashing toward Sam with puffy red eyes and a tear-streaked face.

Sam rushed over and pulled her distraught daughter into her arms, simultaneously kneeling beside Jack. "Shh, it's okay, sweetie." She reached out with one arm and touched her husband's shoulder.

Jack groaned and slid one hand up to rub against his head. His eyelids slowly fluttered open.

"Daddy's okay, Maddie. He just got a little bonk on the head."

"You call that _little_?" Jack murmured with a groan, rubbing at his head and slowly sitting up. "Ow."

Maddie sniffed and pulled her face out of Sam's neck, turning to glance at her father with a trembling lower lip. "I hitted him wif the bafesball bat on accident."

"Ouch." Sam smiled tightly with sympathy and gently nudged Maddie toward the house to get a snack. She then carefully helped Jack to his feet, grasping his arm to steady him when he swayed for a moment.

"Come on inside so I can look at your head, slugger."

Jack walked slowly with her toward the house. He snorted. "She's got a pretty damn good swing for a four-year-old."

.

Jack sunk down on the couch, rubbing at his head with a grimace while Sam went to get him an ice pack and some Aspirin. His head was thumping, and he was pretty sure there was a good sized goose-egg above his left eyebrow. The next time he played baseball with his daughter, Jack would be sure to tell her to wait until Daddy was out of the way before swinging the bat. Oy.

Sam returned with the ice and sat down beside him, gesturing for him to lean back as she gently placed the towel-wrapped pack on his head. "How's that?"

He sighed softly and nodded. "Better. Thanks." Jack could see Maddie cautiously edging toward the couch when Sam handed him the Aspirin. He sent his daughter a reassuring smile. "C'mon over here, kiddo. It's okay."

It took him a moment to realize that Maddie was holding something behind her back. "What'cha got there, kiddo?"

She pulled her hand out, revealing that she was holding onto the batting helmet that Jack had got her. Maddie thrust it toward him, and Jack took it, a curious expression on his face.

"What's this for, Mads?"

Maddie smiled brightly at him and said, "Daddy next time _you _wear my helmet, o'tay?"

.Fin.


	57. A Lesson in Eavesdropping

**Summary: **Daniel learns that things with Jack and Sam aren't always as they seem…or sound.

**Timeframe: **After 'Moebius,' at Jack's cabin.

**Characters/Pairing: **Daniel, Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Humor

**Rating: **PG-13 (for some mild innuendo)

**A Lesson in Eavesdropping**

The soft rustling of people moving nearby half-roused Daniel from his mid-afternoon nap on Jack's sofa. He lifted one eyelid slowly as he heard familiar voices whispering. Without his glasses, and only squinting one eye, Daniel could just about make out the fuzzy shapes of Jack and Sam on the other side of the room. It looked like Jack had woken Sam up from her own nap. The last thing Daniel recalled was all of them hanging around, watching a movie. Most, if not all of them—save for Teal'c, probably—had fallen asleep.

"Carter, c'mere. I wanna show you somethin'."

"What?" Sam's skeptical whisper.

"Just come with me, will ya?" Jack's voice, impatient. No surprise there.

Daniel heard Sam get up, then fully opened his eyes when his two friends' footsteps faded down the hall. Curiosity set in, and he unfolded himself from the cushions, rising and tiptoeing along the short corridor. Daniel could hear Jack and Sam's voices in the bathroom, and stopped, leaning against the wall to listen.

"_I wanna show you somethin', but don't freak out."_

"_Um… What?" _Slow, tentative, curious.

"_Just…turn around for one second."_

"_Sir? Wait, why is there a…EEK!"_

Sam's screech nearly caused Daniel to jump out of his skin. He forced himself to relax and put a hand over his mouth to muffle any noises he might make as he continued to listen.

"_Sir!"_

"_Shush, Carter! For cryin' out loud." _Jack muttered with a chuckle.

"_Wow."_

"_I know, right?"_ Prideful, smug. _"And you didn't believe me."_

"_But… It's just so…small." _Holding back laughter.

"_What did you expect, Carter? Moby Dick?" _Sharp, indignant. Classic Jack on the defensive.

"_Well, no, but—" _a pause. _"Maybe something bigger than…a minnow." _

"_Minnow? Really, Carter?" _Disbelieving snort. _"Jeeze, who woulda thought you'd be so critical."_

"_I'm sorry, sir. I don't mean to offend you or anything, but it's just—" _Holding back laughter.

Daniel felt his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. What was he listening in on, here?

"_Maybe I shoulda showed Daniel first. He'd be more appreciative."_

Oh, God, no! Daniel stumbled backward and tripped, making a loud noise. He froze suddenly as the bathroom door swung open.

"Daniel?" Sam questioned with a curious look.

"Uh…" he cleared his throat and straightened before dumbly pointing at the door. "Um, I just had to go to the bathroom."

Jack stepped around Sam and into the hall, eyeing Daniel suspiciously. "Why is your face so red?"

"I was sleeping," Daniel answered quickly, as though that explained it.

Sam shared a quizzical look with Jack before they both shrugged and headed back to the living room.

Daniel felt like his heart would burst out of his chest. Oh God, he would never get those images out of his head! Heaving out a breath, Daniel stepped into the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror for a moment before his gaze drifted downward. Oh.

"Ah—Jack? Why is there a live fish swimming in your sink?"

-The End-


	58. The Comfy Chair Project

**Summary: **Jack tries to persuade Sam into letting him get a recliner for their bedroom.

**Timeframe: **Post-series

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Fluff, Humor, Domestic Happy

**Rating: **PG

**The Comfy Chair Project**

"Jack, you're not getting a recliner for our _bedroom._"

"Why not?"

"Why do we need a big chair? We have a bed."

"Because I want a nice comfy chair in our room for…you know, reading, and watching TV, and…stuff."

"Reading, TV, and...stuff." She gave him a skeptical look.

He nodded. "Yeah, stuff."

A delicate eyebrow climbed. Her arms crossed. "Isn't that what the living room is for?"

Jack shrugged and started to fidget, doing a little tap dance maneuver that got Sam wondering what he was really up to.

"Wait, what kind of _stuff _are you talking about Jack?"

"Communal naps?" He grinned with boyish enthusiasm.

Sam laughed and shook her head.

Jack frowned. "Why are you so against the Comfy Chair Project?" he practically whined.

"_The Comfy Chair…"_ Rolling her eyes, Sam shook her head, trying hard not to further allow her amusement in this matter to show. "Jack, this is ridiculous. We don't need to add another piece of furniture to our bedroom just so you can hide in here and watch hockey in your underwear when we have guests over."

"That's not what it's about!" He cried indignantly, then in a low mutter added, "Well it was _initially_, but…"

Sam couldn't help it this time; she laughed, walking away from him without hearing more. "No."

.

Two weeks later Sam came home to a large—and admittedly comfortable looking—recliner in the corner of her and Jack's bedroom. They had company coming over in less than an hour, and she didn't want to waste time fighting with Jack over something so trivial. For now, she was going to pretend the chair didn't exist.

Daniel, Vala, Teal'c, and Cameron arrived, bringing food and drink. The small surrogate family gathering was a nice slow change to the hustle and bustle of their lives at work. It was the first time Sam had been able to see everybody all together since Ba'al's extraction ceremony.

"Have another drink, Daniel," Vala told him with a laugh when he got too wordy again. She slid another beer his way while not-so-subtly scooting closer to him on the couch.

Cameron was well on his way to buzzed, sitting silently in the armchair and nursing his last beer. Teal'c had left an hour earlier, needing to go off-world again to meet with his son.

Sam looked up and smiled when Jack came in from the kitchen and perched on the arm of her chair. He had a crooked smile on his face as he leaned over and kissed her, uncaring of the others around them. Sam then gave him a meaningful glance when Daniel and Vala started an argument that Mitchell joined in on, and Jack stood up, taking her hand and swiftly tugging her out of the room.

"Jack," she admonished half-heartedly when he gently pushed her up against the wall outside their bedroom door and kissed her.

"What?" he asked innocently, winding his arms around her waist.

Sam kissed him back, then pulled him into a tight hug, his face resting in the crook of her neck.

The sound of an escalating argument reached their ears, and Jack leaned back, brushing his hand at the hair that framed her face. "C'mon." He pulled her into their bedroom and nudged the door closed with his foot, and before Sam knew it, she was lying with him on that big comfy recliner that didn't exist.

Sam was actually surprised with how comfortable the chair really was. The cushions were soft and squishy, and she was forced to lie half on top of him. They were so close, and Sam could just melt into Jack's solid frame, hugging him as he wrapped his arms around her. "Hmm," she hummed contentedly, snuggling into him.

She shifted to kiss his neck, and thought that she heard him mumble something in a Homer Simpson voice that sounded like "_Mm, communal naps." _Hiding a smile against his warm neck, she closed her eyes.

Jack spoke after a few solid moments of just lying there, holding one another. "So…" He craned his neck to give her a sweet kiss on the lips. "_For _the Comfy Chair Project?"

Sam laughed and gave his side a little squeeze. "Oh yes. Definitely_ for_ the Comfy Chair Project."

.Fin.

**Note: **This came about from a ridiculous conversation I had with my mother because I want a recliner in my room, which eventually led to "Why are you so against the Comfy Chair Project?"I started to imagine a vaguely similar situation involving Sam and Jack and…fluffyness. ;)


	59. Home for the Holidays

**Summary: **Just a short bit of holiday fluff.

**Timeframe: **Any

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Fluff, Holiday, Domestic Happy

**Rating: **G

**Home for the Holidays**

"Why can't we just stay here for Christmas?" Jack whined half-heartedly, burying his head beneath the pillow on the sofa.

"Because," Sam pulled a fleece throw over her shoulders and climbed on top of him, laying across his back and resting her chin beside his neck. "Daniel offered to cook dinner at his place, so that's where we're going."

Jack grumbled something unintelligible into the pillow.

Sam smiled and kissed the back of his shoulder. "It won't be that bad."

"Daniel can't cook," he muttered.

"Oh, like I can?" she shot back, hugging herself to his warm body.

"Don't give me that." Jack snorted. "You can, you just don't like to," he returned with a chuckle.

Sam reached her hands up to play with his hair. "Why do you want to stay here so bad anyway?"

"'Cause," Jack murmured.

"That's not an answer," Sam shot back, squealing when he turned over on his side suddenly, causing her to fall between his back and the sofa. "Jack!"

He chuckled and rolled over so that he was facing her, then threw an arm over her and leaned in to capture her lips with his own. "'Cause I can't kiss you like that at Daniel's house." Jack's face pulled into a big grin and Sam couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Don't worry, Jack," she told him wryly. "We'll have Christmas night at home all to ourselves."

-Fin-


	60. Touchdown

**Summary: **Sometimes it's good to enjoy the little things.

**Timeframe: **Any after Sam is promoted to Major.

**Characters/Pairing: **Team, Sam/Jack UST

**Genre: **Fluff

**Rating: **G

**Touchdown**

He catches her as she falls, the force of her slamming into him making them land in a heap on the dirt and grass. The breath is momentarily knocked from his lungs, his arms tightening around her.

"Oof," she exhales, shifting against his chest.

"Nice catch, Carter," he says once his breath is back.

"Thank you, sir," is her triumphant response.

She's so close, wayward strands of blonde hair in his face and he can smell her shampoo. He doesn't want to let go, but soon she's rolling off of him and getting to her feet with an ease that makes him jealous, the football tucked close to her chest.

Jack rolls to his knees and rises in her wake, trying to ignore the cracking of his joints. Daniel and Teal'c are across the lawn, making their way toward the middle as Sam jogs triumphantly, tossing Teal'c the ball.

"That was an exceptional catch, Major Carter." Teal'c congratulates her on winning them the game.

Jack snorts loudly, meeting the group. "I think Danny and I deserve _at least _half a point for that."

Sam looks at him, a cute, sardonic expression on her face. "How do you figure that one, sir?"

"Well," he starts, a saunter in his step, "You caught the ball, and I caught you." He smirks then, relishing the opportunity to see her laugh, even if it is at his expense.

"Nice try, sir, but I don't think so." She shakes her head, both Teal'c and Daniel in apparent agreement.

"It was worth it," he whispers to no one in particular, and Daniel suggests they head inside for some lunch. Jack walks behind Carter, watching the slight sway of her jean-clad hips. He grins again, thinks about the way her body felt pressed against his. "Definitely worth it."

.Fin.


	61. Fixing Things

**Summary: **Procedures, plums, and explanations.

**Timeframe: **AU, Any

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack and Daniel/Janet

**Genre: **Fluff, Family, Humor

**Rating: **T

**Fixing Things**

There's snow on the ground, but it's not snowing now, and the weather isn't even that bad, so Sam can't justify spending all day on the couch with Jack even if that's all she really wants to do. It's a very big day for Jack, but she's sure he wants to ignore that fact for as long as he can.

Sam sighs and reaches for the arm slung around her shoulder to check the time on Jack's watch. She knows they'll have to get up and get ready to go to the Academy Hospital soon. Jack's scheduled to go in for a vasectomy at four this afternoon, and they still have to drop Shane, Luke, and Hannah off at Daniel and Janet's on the way to the hospital after the boys get home from school.

After Hannah's difficult birth six months ago, Janet had warned them that if Sam was to ever get pregnant again, it would be potentially dangerous for her health. At that point Jack had opened his big mouth and offered to get a vasectomy which would be a much less invasive procedure than having Sam get her tubes tied. He's probably regretting that decision now, and has been putting it off for as long as possible.

"Jack," Sam says softly, sitting up and gently removing the arm that's snugly around her. "The bus will be dropping the boys off soon, why don't you go take your shower." Sam turns to him in time to see her husband's grimace. He knows he'll be going under the knife shortly, and despite what he's been insisting all day, she recognizes that he's nervous.

Sam's getting Hannah in her baby carrier, and Jack's putting on his shoes and jacket as their four and six-year-old whirlwinds come through the door, barreling into him.

"Shane, Luke, don't take your shoes and coats off. Go grab your pillows and the overnight bags I packed for you on your beds. We need to go," Sam tells the boys immediately—they're already running late.

"Why do we hafta stay with Aunt Janet and Uncle Daniel all weekend?" Shane whines as he and Luke climb into the backseat of the truck. He dutifully straps his younger brother into his car seat and then checks on his baby sister before wedging himself into the seat between them and buckling up.

Sam turns in the driver's seat to look at her kids as Jack quietly gets into the cab beside her. "Shane, we talked about this, remember? Daddy has to go to the hospital for a little procedure today and he's going to need some quiet at home for the next few days." She starts the truck and awaits the inevitable question.

"What's a…pro…pro-seet-cher again?" Shane struggles a little with the unfamiliar word.

"It's an operation, sweetie. The doctor is going to…fix something for Daddy." Sam pulls out of the driveway and hears Jack groan softly in the passenger seat at her choice of words, resting his head against the window. His hands are fidgeting anxiously with the zipper on his jacket.

"Auntie Janet's gonna help Daddy?" Luke asks, and Sam smiles at him through the rearview mirror as she drives down the street.

"No, Auntie Janet had to call a special doctor friend in to help Daddy."

"Can we please talk about something else?" Jack moans without lifting his head from the window.

Sam glances over briefly and gives him a sympathetic smile. She reaches toward him with one hand, touching his thigh comfortingly before turning on the radio. "Let's listen to some music, okay guys? Hannah likes the radio."

.

Sam sits on the gurney with Jack after he's prepped for surgery, leaning against his shoulder and holding his hand. He's dressed in a hospital gown and hooked up to an IV. Dr. Harrison—the urologist Janet referred them to—already walked them through the procedure one more time, and now they're just waiting for him to give Jack a light sedative before taking him in.

Jack's been pretty quiet all day, but she doesn't blame him. He's got a lot on his mind. It's a simple procedure, and the risks are minimal, but this isn't something to be taken lightly.

Jack breathes in and out deeply beside her, and she squeezes his hand. "It'll be over before you know it."

He doesn't say anything right away, just grimaces and stares down at his lap with a sigh. Another beat of silence passes before he shifts awkwardly and mutters, "They shaved my nuts."

Sam snorts softly and gives him an affectionate smile. "It's not like that was unexpected. Dr. Harrison explained that all beforehand."

He makes a face, his nose crinkling. "I _know_, but… Jeeze, I wish they'd sedated me for that part!"

Laughing softly, Sam leans over and kisses his cheek. She's glad for the brief moment of levity, because even though she'll never mention it to him, she's actually a little tense about the whole thing herself.

.

Sam's carrying a small bag of Jack's things when she walks into his room shortly after his operation. The IV is gone, and he's standing next to the bed, looking a little groggy from the sedative. "Hey," she sends him a smile when he looks up at her. "How are you feeling?"

"I dunno yet," he glances downward and grunts. "Still pretty numb down there." Jack leans on the edge of bed. "Do you _know _where they hafta jab that big honkin' needle for the local anesthetic?" he grouches.

She grimaces supportively and gestures toward the tote bag in her left hand. "I've got your sweats, boxer briefs, some cold packs from Janet, and Tylenol."

His brows furrow minutely as he takes his clothes from the bag. "Doc's here?"

"Yeah. She said she was going to stop in before we left. She's filling out your discharge papers while Dr. Harrison's busy with another patient. Same procedure."

Jack's face twists and he clears his throat. "I feel for the guy."

"Come on, let me help you get dressed."

.

Sam calls Daniel to check on the kids once they get home, and lets him know that Jack's okay. Despite their constant ribbing of one another, Sam knows that this isn't something Daniel will tease Jack about; he's asking after his best friend, sincerely concerned for his well-being.

She talks to Shane and Luke for a minute or two each, then warns them to behave and go to bed when they're told before Daniel comes back on the line to say goodbye.

Sam sets down the phone and goes back to the lounge where Jack is lying on the couch with some cold packs on his tender parts. "Still numb?" she asks, perching on the arm of the sofa by her husband's head and raking her fingers through his hair.

"No." He sighs, shifts a little and moans softly. "Just…"

"Sore?" she offers when he doesn't finish.

"Yeah."

Getting up, she rounds the coffee table and starts up the steps. "I'll get you some Tylenol."

.

Jack's not in bed when she wakes in the morning. She hears water running in the en suite and gets up to check on him. "Jack? You okay?"

"_My balls look like friggin' plums,"_ he mutters from the other side of the door.

"Janet said some swelling and bruising was normal," Sam says, her head bowed against the doorframe.

"_I don't think this is normal."_

Concerned, she pushes the door open and steps inside. "Let me see."

He's standing in front of the sink. He doesn't turn around, so she goes to his side and bends over. "I don't think I've ever given my testicles this much scrutiny." He pauses and lifts his head, reconsidering. "Wait, that's not true. Okay, since _puberty_."

"Jack." Sam smiles minutely with some amusement.

"We're standing in the bathroom examining my purple nuts. This is weird, Sam. Don't you think this is weird?"

She shrugs. "Hey, we're married. Life is weird." Sam glances down and frowns. "Ooh."

"What?" he squawks worriedly.

She straightens and puts her hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to call Janet. Go lie down, okay?" Sam knows she's troubled him even more now, but she really thinks she should call.

He gingerly tugs up his boxer briefs and sweats and shuffles back into the bedroom.

Jack's back on the bed when she gets off the phone. He lifts his head warily, a question in his dark eyes. She carries over the cold packs in her hand and gives them to him. "Janet just said to keep an eye on the extent of the bruising and use the cold packs for the swelling. Is it overly painful?"

He seems to think about that for a moment as he carefully applies the ice. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he confirms with a slight nod.

Sam gets back on the bed and lies beside him, resting her head on his chest. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and she leans into him.

"How are the kids doin' with Daniel and the doc?"

"Good. Janet says the boys are having a blast with Cassie. She's keeping them busy and out of trouble." She sighs thoughtfully. "I was thinking about picking Hannah up today. You know how fussy she gets when she's away from us for too long."

"Yeah." Jack nods in agreement.

"Shane and Luke will be fine the rest of the weekend with Daniel and Janet. It'll be too much with all three of them home and you need to take it easy."

He sighs sleepily. "Mm-hm."

"You can call them later. They'll want to hear from you that everything's okay," she tells him, but she knows he's barely awake now.

.

The swelling is down by the afternoon, and Jack assures Sam he's feeling better as he gingerly sits at the table for lunch. She sees that he's uncomfortable, but not in any great pain, and considers it a good sign that he's hungry.

"It's too quiet," he mutters after a few bites of his sandwich.

She smiles.

Jack takes a drink and then looks at her across the table. "I miss the kids."

"Jack, it's only been twenty-four hours." She watches him fondly.

He shrugs and quirks a lopsided grin. "I know, but I miss 'em."

"I do, too. But you need calm and quiet for a couple of days, doctor's orders. You won't be able to get the rest you need with Shane and Luke running around. They'll want you to play with them and you can't."

Jack sighs and puts down what's left of his sandwich.

She smiles and reaches across the table to touch his hand. "Rest for what's left of today. I'll go get Hannah, then we'll bring the boys home tomorrow; a day early. How does that sound?"

"Good." He lifts his head and grins crookedly before finishing off the rest of his lunch.

.

Jack is happier when Sam brings Hannah home after lunch. He lays with her on the couch, and she snuggles into his chest as they both nap while Sam reads a book in the chair by the windows.

Sam jerks and looks toward the couch when she hears Jack groan in his sleep. His face contorts briefly as Hannah wiggles on his chest, her kicking left foot dangerously close to a very tender part of her daddy's anatomy.

Quickly setting down her book, Sam gets up and swiftly picks Hannah up just as she starts to really squirm. "Shh, baby. Mama's got you." She holds Hannah to her shoulder and soothingly rubs her back, walking around the lounge and bouncing her daughter with each step.

Sam smiles as Hannah begins to settle down. "That's my girl." She presses a kiss to the chubby little cheek and takes Hannah to the nursery to lay her in the crib.

Jack's half awake when she goes back to the lounge. He sits up as she comes over, and she moves behind his shoulders, pulling a pillow into her lap and having him lie back down against her.

He blinks up at her sleepily as she rakes her fingers through his hair. "Hannah?"

"I just put her in the nursery."

Jack blinks again and nods. He sighs softly with contentment, enjoying the feel of her hand in his short silver hair.

.

Sam's just getting off the phone and has Hannah perched on her hip when Jack gets out of the shower, moving slowly with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Hey," she smiles warmly at him, sitting on the edge of the bed with Hannah in her lap.

"Hey." He goes over to his bureau to search for clothes. "When are you pickin' up Shane and Luke?"

"I'm not." Sam bounces Hannah on her knee a little when she begins babbling. She smiles reassuringly at Jack when he turns and gives her a puzzled look. "I just got off the phone with Janet. She's going to bring the boys herself so she can give you a check-up."

"Carter," he groans, dropping his towel with his back to her and bending slowly to pull on his boxer briefs.

"Jack, it's no big deal. She just needs to make sure everything's healing normally."

He grunts and puts on a clean pair of sweatpants next. "I thought we already established it's not."

She shoots him a look. "More bruising than normal isn't exactly _that _bad. You could have worse things associated with the bruising, and that's what Janet needs to check for."

"Great." Jack swears under his breath and then pulls on a black Henley shirt.

Sam gets up with Hannah and follows Jack out to the hall. "What do you want for breakfast?"

.

When Janet brings the boys home, Sam has to remind them not to jump on Daddy, but they still don't really understand why. She tells Jack she's going to try explaining what the doctors did to him so Shane and Luke will know—and better understand—that they need to be careful around him. Jack's not really too keen on the idea, but Sam doesn't give him the option. They've always been pretty honest with their kids, even if they gave them the watered down version of the truth.

Janet goes with Jack into the bedroom so she can examine him, and Sam takes Shane and Luke into their own room to talk and help them unpack.

Sam has the boys sit on Luke's bottom bunk while she carefully explains Jack's operation in a way the four and six-year-olds can better understand. When she finishes her explanation, Shane is making a funny face and Luke has tears in his eyes. Her youngest son sniffles and swipes at his face when tears begin to slip down his cheeks.

Kneeling in front of them, Sam looks at her brown-haired four-year-old with concern, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Luke, sweetie, why are you crying?"

He blinks up at her with huge cinnamon eyes that are swimming with tears, and whimpers, "'Cuz they hurted Daddy's boy parts!"

Sam has to bite on her lower lip to stop herself from laughing. "Oh, sweetie." She gets on the bunk and pulls Luke into her lap, hugging him and kissing the top of his head. "The doctors gave Daddy special medicine so it wouldn't hurt during the operation. They did it to help him."

"But he hurts now?" Shane asks while his little brother's cries lessen.

"He's just a little sore and needs to rest, okay? That's why Mommy needs you to play quietly and not bother Daddy for now."

Luke takes a deep, brave breath and slides off his mother's lap. He nods solemnly. "O'tay, Mommy."

Janet and Jack are back in the lounge when Sam leaves the boys' room. Her gaze flits back and forth between them, but Jack just looks tired and a little uncomfortable, and Janet's expression gives nothing away.

Sam sits beside Jack on the couch, reaching behind him to rub his back. "So?" She looks at Janet expectantly.

"Well, the amount of bruising is a little unusual, but nothing to be too concerned about," Janet tells them both calmly. "The good news is that the incision sites look fine, with no signs of infection, and besides some minor pain—which is to be expected for several days after surgery—everything appears to be fine." She gives them a comforting smile, then looks at Jack. "You also said there looks to be more swelling than yesterday?"

"Yeah," he says with an embarrassed grunt.

"That's okay," Janet assures him. "That's normal, too. Just apply ice when needed and keep taking Tylenol. And if the bruising or pain gets any worse, you can call me or Dr. Harrison at any time."

"Okay." Jack gets up, presumably to grab a cold pack, and Sam walks with Janet to the front door.

"Janet, thank you so much for taking care of the kids. We really appreciate it," Sam tells her friend as they stop at the door.

Janet pulls on her coat and smiles. "They were no trouble Sam, honestly. Daniel, Cassie, and I were all glad to help."

Sam hugs her and says goodbye before going to check on the kids. Shane and Luke are playing in the fort they've made on the bottom bunk, sheets and blankets hanging from the top to enclose it. She smiles as she leans in the doorway for a moment, listening to them talk and play.

Hannah is still napping in her crib when Sam checks the baby next, so she goes to the lounge where she finds Jack sitting on the couch with a cold pack to his groin, watching TV. She sits down next to him and puts her hand on his thigh.

"What did the boys say when you told them?" Jack asks, a note of tentative curiosity in his voice.

"Nothing really. Shane kind of looked a little horrified, and Luke," she smiles sideways and tries not to laugh. Her husband gives her a befuddled look. "Luke cried."

"He _cried_?" Jack asks incredulously, his eyebrows climbing. "Why was he crying? What the hell did you tell him?" he asks with a half-amused expression.

Sam giggles softly, she can't help it. "He was upset because the doctors," she prepares to make air quotes, "Hurt your 'boy parts.'" She starts laughing at the face Jack makes, and then he's laughing along with her, chuckling and shaking his head.

"_Boy parts_?" Jack repeats once their laughter has died down. He quirks a lopsided grin. "I think I need to clear something up with the fellas."

Her brows furrow and she gives him an odd look. "What do you mean?"

Jack straightens up and puffs out his chest. "Well for one thing, after a certain age those are definitely _man _parts."

Sam laughs, wraps her arms around him affectionately, and gives him a kiss. She then ruffles his already-unruly hair. "Yes, Jack. Definitely man parts." He chuckles, and after a moment she gives him a semi-serious look. "Speaking of which, how _are _your man parts?"

He leans back into the sofa and adjusts the cold pack. "Still a bit sore, but gettin' better."

"Good." She kisses him again and leans against his shoulder. "I'm going to need you in full working order again at some point."

Jack waggles his eyebrows as a lazy grin spreads across his unshaven face. "Sweet."

.The End.


	62. Light in Negative Spaces

**Summary: **She watched him move through the dark of their underground compound and go to their special place.

**Timeframe: **Missing scene from season four's "Beneath the Surface."

**Characters/Pairing: **Jonah/Thera, UST

**Genre: **Friendship, Fluff

**Rating: **G.

**Light in Negative Spaces**

She watched him move through the dark of their underground compound and go to _their _special place. It was a warm pile of blankets in a secluded corner, away from everybody else, away from their work stations. But it was more than that. That spot—_their _spot—meant so much more to her.

It was a place of comfort, a warm body to lean up against. It was someone to talk to, someone to share her concerns and joys from the day with. It was Jonah.

Thera smiled fondly as she spoke his name in her mind, still watching as he settled on the blankets, waiting for her. She was hidden in the shadows by some pipes, sure that he couldn't see her watching.

Jonah squirmed where he sat, appearing almost anxious as his deep brown eyes gazed this way and that, searching. He was so obviously searching for _her_, that Thera could feel her face light up, a warmth spreading through her entire being just knowing that he was looking forward to her arrival.

She watched him lean back with his knees bent up, trying to be relaxed when she still didn't show her face. There was a noise nearby and he visibly perked up, a smile almost appearing on his scruffy face before his hopes were dashed when the noise didn't produce her presence.

Thera felt bad now for the flicker of sadness she could see in his posture. Finally, she stepped out from the dark and smoothly walked toward him with a warm, friendly smile.

The affectionate grin on Jonah's face made his eyes glint with unmasked joy as he straightened to greet her with a low, "Hey."

"Hi." Easily settling down beside him, Thera couldn't wipe the smile off her face. She moved a little closer when he leaned back, and then silently rested her head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly when he put an arm around her.

"Good day?" he asked casually.

Thera craned her neck to look up at him, still smiling and enjoying his warmth and his presence. She nodded. "It is now."

.Fin.


	63. The Ritual

**Summary: **Jack and Sam have a Sunday ritual.

**Timeframe: **Future/any

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Fluff

**Rating: **G

**The Ritual**

Arriving home after a week spent with a group of scientists in an off-world lab, Sam would have known it was Sunday night even if she'd been unaware of the date due to her absence.

Wandering into the sunken lounge after putting down her bag and kicking off her shoes, Sam found her husband in his usual spot at eight o'clock on a Sunday evening. He was sprawled on the couch with his feet on the coffee table and a bowl of popcorn on the cushion beside him. Jack was sans shirt, wearing only a pair of yellow and blue boxers with an image of a drunken Homer Simpson and the bold words: _I hope I didn't brain my damage. _On the back, she knew it also said: _Too late! _with a crazed-looking Homer on one side. While watching his favorite show, Jack absolutely _had _to be wearing some form of Simpsons apparel. It was part of his ritual. Sam found it sort of endearing in an odd, dorky sort of way.

Sam couldn't help but smile at Jack as the show went to a commercial break and he turned his full attention to her. She wouldn't trade coming home to this for anything, no matter the goofiness of her husband's Sunday night ritual.

Jack flashed her a wide grin and patted the spot next to him after pulling the popcorn bowl into his lap. "You comin' over here, or what?"

Sauntering over and sinking down into the comfortable cushion beside Jack, Sam leaned into him and rested her head on his bare shoulder. He was warm and smelled of _Irish Springs _soap. "Mm, you smell good," she murmured absently as she inhaled his scent.

Jack chuckled with a soft, "Why thank ya, ma'am."

As The Simpsons came back from the commercial, and Jack was immersed in the show, laughing at the characters' antics, Sam was reminded just how much she loved this man, loved the sound of his laughter, and everything about him. Even his quirky habits and odd rituals.

Sam reached for some popcorn, lifting her chin up briefly to kiss Jack's cheek. He dragged his attention from the TV momentarily to capture her lips in a sweet kiss before she pulled away.

Hunkering down and leaning against Jack again, Sam took over control of the television remote when his show ended. She switched over to the Discovery Channel to watch a special on classic motorcycle restorations and smiled when Jack was eventually lured into sleep beside her.

This Sunday night ritual would never get old for Sam, bringing a sense of comfort and security to their otherwise rather hectic lifestyle. She sighed contently, totally relaxed. When Jack grunted in his sleep a short while later, mumbling a slurred and mostly incoherent, but familiar Homer Simpson phrase, Sam couldn't help but chuckle softly. Yep, this was _their _ritual, and she wouldn't change a thing.

.End.


	64. Just Like Heaven

**Summary: **The phone rang and nothing was ever the same again.

**Timeframe: **Any.

**Characters/Pairing: **Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Drabble, Fluff, Romance

**Rating: **G.

**Note: **The first line was a prompt from my brain twin, and fellow author, **Jack M. Kaiser**.

**Just Like Heaven**

The phone rang and nothing was ever the same again.

He'd ended the call with _I love you_. Of all things, _I love you_. And then he'd hung up, not giving her a chance to babble uncomfortably as she fumbled for a reply, for something to say back in the midst of her supreme shock over his words.

The phone slipped from her hands and she sunk to the floor, leaning against the wall and staring across the hall into the kitchen.

It suddenly hit her that they had graduated from quick, spontaneous bursts of _I-love-you_, and heat-of-the-moment, _God…love you, _to endearing drops of _I love you _at the end of their phone conversations.

This was monumental. It was perfect and just felt…right.


	65. Scary Fairies

**Summary: **Jack has a thing against the Tooth Fairy.

**Timeframe: **Any, Future

**Characters/Pairing: **Jack, Daniel, Teal'c, implied Sam/Jack

**Genre: **Fluff, Humor, Drabble

**Rating: **PG.

**Note: **The first line is a prompt from a story starter book, thanks to **Jack M. Kaiser. **:)

**Scary Fairies**

"Vampires, werewolves, zombies and demons aren't scary. What's scary is a fairy sneaking in your room and taking your teeth."

Daniel burst into half-drunken laughter, his near-empty beer bottle dangling precariously from between his fingers as he rocked back in the lawn chair, nearly causing it to fold in on him and dump him on the dewy grass.

Teal'c simply lifted a regal eyebrow at the two men, taking another drink from his tall glass of sparkling water and cranberry. He smartly didn't involve himself in the ridiculous conversation.

_Daniel _on the other hand, just could not butt out. He blamed it on the liquor. "Jack, _this _is the reason you refuse to tell your daughter about the Tooth Fairy?" he exclaimed in astonishment, still chuckling.

"Yes! It's a damn creepy fairy tale, that's what it is." Jack waved his own beer bottle, unintentionally splashing some into the fire pit which resulted in a bit of smoke and a loud _hiss. _

Daniel just laughed and shook his head while Teal'c remained silent. "Poor kid."

.End.


	66. Sappy Mornings

**Summary: **Jack loves mornings like this.

**Timeframe: **AU (Maddie Universe)

**Characters/Pairing: **Established Sam/Jack, Maddie

**Genre: **Fluff

**Rating: **G

**Sappy Mornings**

She pounces at him, all blue eyes and blonde curls. Maddie has his mischievous smile, and as he catches her, pulling her against his chest, she giggles like a maniac; Sam's childish laugh when she can't stop herself.

He chuckles, wraps his arms tightly around her and rocks the squealing, squirming two-year-old from side to side. "What's up, Mads?"

"Me an' Mommy make you breakfast!" she announces, planting a sloppy kiss against his stubbly chin.

"Sweet." Jack rolls out of bed with his daughter under his arm, grinning at her continuous laughter as he carries her out to the kitchen.

Sam's there, pouring a cup of coffee, and there's a wonderful smelling serving dish piled high with pancakes on the counter.

He puts Maddie down so he can hug and kiss his wife, and just stands there, holding her for a while and humming softly as they sway together to a silent tune.

Sam laughs and plants another kiss on his lips. "Since when are you a morning person, Jack?"

Shrugging, he offers a grin that he knows is incredibly sappy but doesn't care. "Since I realized how much I love waking up to my two favorite girls in the entire multi-verse."

She laughs again, music to his ears, and flicks a finger at the tip of his nose. "_Multi-verse_, huh?"

He leans back, hands still on her hips. "Heck yeah." Jack grins to himself as he reaches for the dish of pancakes with one hand, snagging Sam by the arm with the other. He drags her with him toward the kitchen table where their little one has already climbed into her booster seat. Yup. He can't imagine ever having a bad morning waking up with his family.

.End.


End file.
